Nothing But The Blood
by WriteroftheRevolution
Summary: A former member of the deadliest assassination squad on the planet, Katara thought that she had finally escaped the Order when she opted for a normal life. But when an old partner shows up with the biggest hit ever, how could she refuse? R&R please! HIATUS
1. 50 Ways to Say Goodbye

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "Avatar: The Last Airbender"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Don't worry, I am NOT starting another story. I have way too many running already. This is just a one shot, a taste of something that I might get back to once I'm finished with everything else. Anyone who likes this idea, and has the time and will to make it good, you have my complete permission to run with it. It's just a cool idea that I've never read before, and I really wanted to get it down. This story is a bit of a crossover with Kill Bill, Wanted, and Mr. and Mrs. Smith, kinda, more in the way of themes than characters...if that makes any sense. You'll see when you start reading. So, enjoy, and please review, and tell me if you like the idea!

P.S. This is an AU that has a setting in America, and there's no bending. At least not in this one shot. Everyone is seven years older than they are in the series.

* * *

The Order of the White Lotus is a secret society that has been charged with maintaining the balance of the world for thousands of years. They watch and they wait, only intervening when necessary. Those of them who do the intervening are called the White Lotus Assassination Squad. The descendants of the most influential members of the Order, the Squad contains the best warriors the world has ever seen. They protect the Fate of the world by eliminating those who get in it's way. They are the Gate Keepers, the Gaurdians, the Dark Angels. A brotherhood bound in blood, the members of the Squad can only leave under order of the Grand Master. Yet, no one ever truly leaves the Squad. The blood that stains their skin always stays with them. Forever.

-888-

He pulled his coat closer around him as the chill wind that Chicago was named for crept between his clothes, touching his skin. The soft snow crunched under his feet as he walked down the busy sidewalk.

For some reason, Zuko had always liked Chicago more than New York City, his hometown. It seemed older, realer, grimier. The fact that his newest target was located in this particular city was just a perk.

-888-

Today was oddly busy, Katara realized. It was Wednesday - which was usually the diner's slowest day - but today it was bustling. _Must be the weather_, she thought. Sure enough, it was still snowing, like it had been since three o'clock that morning. Katara didn't mind the weather, however. In fact, she was probably the only person in the Windy City who liked it. The snow reminded her of home, and the life that she had once known. The loud clang of a newbie dropping a dozen plates shook her out of her thoughts. The past was just that. The _past_. No need to dwell on it now.

After checking on one of her tables, she stopped at the diner bar, taking a moment to put her long hair up into a messy bun. It fell down constantly, becoming a constant annoyance. She was honestly thinking about cutting it all off.

"Busy day, hugh, Tara?" said Haru, one of the diner's original workers, and Katara's closest friend. He had tried to date her when they first met in college, but she quickly snuffed out that candle. Now, he was content with just a platonic relationship. Or, at least, that's what he told her.

"Yeah," she said, tucking a strand behind her ear. "I don't think it's ever been this busy on a weekday."

"It's the snow, most like it." said Haru as he moved closer to her. "Got everyone all frazzled, even though we should be used to it by now. I mean, we live in Chicago, not Miami. So, what are you doing tonight?"

Katara shrugged, and pulled down the hem of her shirt.

"I have a test to study for, and a paper to write." Haru groaned, throwing his hand up into the air.

"By God, Katara! All you ever do is study!"

"Hey, where's my food!" shouted a customer at the bar, who had been waiting for a while. Haru waived him off.

"I think that the educational pursuits of the University of Chicago could wait one night, don't you? Besides, when's the last time you got out? Or went on a date..."

"I don't have time for 'dates', Haru." said Katara, holding her trey in the crook of a hip, her fist resting on the opposite side of her hip. "Besides, I only have one more year 'till I have enough hours to graduate with a bachelor and a masters degree. After that, I'll get a real job, and have plenty of time for dates, I promise you."

Haru only smirked, shaking his head as he watched Katara make her way back out into the thick of the diner.

"You have to live again sometime, Katara!" he shouted out to her. Katara only shook her head.

_I did live, once_, she thought. _A life that I never wanted. _

-888-

Zuko tried to suppress a laugh as he stared up at the old, 1950's style diner that his contact had pointed him to. He had never imagined Katara working in a place like this, or even working, for that matter. Her family had always been wealthy, and her skills afforded her the means to live whenever she needed them. Now to think that she was barley pushing by in this oh so cliche display of independance... Zuko finally let himself laugh. So Katara.

-888-

The bell that hung above the door rang loudly, alerting Meng that another customer had entered the building. She was so absorbed in her magazine, however, that she didn't even bother to look up. Besides, her aunt owned the place. She knew that she wouldn't get fired.

"Welcome to Aunt Wu's Place, take a seat wherever, a server will be right with you." she mumbled. She could sense that the customer was still standing there, which slightly annoyed her. What was he, a creeper or something?

"Can I help you with anything else, sir?" she asked, idly flipping the page.

"Yes, I believe you can." said a deep, surprisingly smooth voice. Meng glanced up from her magazine, and the most handsome man she had ever seen stood before her, and kind of lop sided smirk on his face. He wore all black, which complimented his pale skin, and he had bright, golden eyes that seemed to go right through her. There was a large scar on the left side of his face, but it gave him a kind of mysterious air. His thick black hair fell around his eyes, causing him to flip his head in a very sophisticated way. Meng immediately wondered if he would take her to her senior prom.

"W-what can I help you with?" she stuttered. The man grinned in a way that surly broke many a heart.

"I heard that a girl named Katara worked here." Meng's smile immediately fell, and her shoulder's slumped.

"Yeah, she works here. Tables five through eight." she said, pointing her finger at an open table. The man nodded his head, then gave her a small wink before seating himself. Meng rested her head on her fist, scowling.

_Katara always gets the good guys._

-888-

Katara heard the door open, and prayed that Meng wouldn't let him sit in her section. All of her other tables were already full, and the kitchen was already running on low.

"Looks like you've got another one, Katara." said Haru from behind the counter. Katara smirked, and stuffed her writing pad in the back pocket of her black slacks. She had to keep reminding herself that the Spirits were never kind to her.

With a sigh, she turned to approach the newest customer with a big "welcome to Aunt Wu's" grin, but what she saw made her heart stop in her chest.

She had to be dreaming.

I mean, she _had_ to be.

There was no way that _him _of all people, would be in Chicago, at that diner, in her section in reality. Fate wasn't that cruel, was it?

"What's wrong, Katara?" asked Haru as he moved closer to her, his eyes locked on the mysterious new figure. "You know that guy, or something?"

As if alerted by Haru's voice, Zuko looked up from the laminated menu that he was looking over, and locked eyes with her. Deep, golden eyes, that seemed to swim and sparkle in the light. Those eyes that could reach through every wall that she had ever built, and grab on to her soul. Yep, that was Zuko.

"I used to know him." responded Katara, her eyes still locked on Zuko. "A long time ago."

"He's not gonna cause any trouble, is he?" asked Haru, with a bit of a quiver in his voice. Katara grinned, and rolled her eyes.

"Now that, I can't promise."

With a burst of confidence that she didn't know she had, Katara began to walk towards the large booth that the somberly dressed boy who had once been a major player in her life's game was occupying. She could see the smirk starting to form on her face. Katara's dreamlike exterior suddenly broke. She had forgotten how much of an arrogant pig head Zuko was. This was going to be interesting.

-888-

Faster than he could have anticipated, all of these old emotions that came with Katara came flooding back to him. She looked different, yet - oddly the same. Her long hair that he used to spend hours running his fingers through was situated on top of her head in a makeshift bun, a few tendrils falling around her face. She wore a white, long sleeved shirt with the words "Aunt Wu's" in yellow script displayed on the front.

Zuko couldn't help but notice how the shirt hugged her curves in an almost tantalizing way. Curves that she didn't have four years ago. His uncle always said that Katara would grow into her body, and he had not lied. Her long black slacks rustled against the floor as she walked. Her sapphire eyes that he had fallen in love with so long ago were now locked on him, mixed expressions flooding through them. The flush rising in Katara's cheeks was apparent, and he could have sworn that her breathing had quickened. He couldn't help but smirk. He had never caused quite that type of reaction from her before. He had to admit, his ego was inflated.

-888-

When Katara finally made it to his booth, she felt like an eternity had passed. So close to him, she noticed that his hair had grown out, and his shoulders had broadened. She even noticed a little stubble forming on his chin. He had grown into a man now. One thing that had remained the same about him, though, was his scar. That painful looking scar that had changed his entire life. She would never forget the day he received it. It was the most traumatic days of both of their lives. It was a day that didn't enjoy meditating on.

For a while they both just stared at each other. It was as if they dared speak, the allusion would be broken, and the dream would dissolve, and they would both wake up.

Finally, Katara decided to be the bigger man in a sense, and take the first shot.

"What can I get for you, sir?" She tried to make her voice as even as possible, but it ended up coming out like a monotone record. Zuko rose one eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling up.

"Really, Sage?" he said, a little bit of ammusment in his voice. "Don't tell me you don't recognize me."

"Well, it's a little hard with you dressed all in black like that. I could have easily mistaken you for an undertaker." Katara bit back. Zuko laughed, and ran his hand through his hair.

"Oh how easily you forget, Sage." They sat staring at each other for a moment more, communicating through their eyes. It was something they had always been able to do, and it didn't surprise them when the parlor trick still worked.

"What do you want, Blackthorn? That is, if you're still called by that name."

"Our names never change, Sage. Those are the names given to us by the Order."

"I'm assuming that you're here on Order business, then." said Katara, crossing her arms and cocking her hip. Zuko held his hands up in mock surrendeur.

"Don't get so hostile. Maybe I just wanted to visit you."

Katara rested her arms on the table, and leaned forward, only inches from Zuko's face.

"It's been four years, Blackthorn. Why would you _ever _want to visit with me now, unless it was on Order business?" The laugh seemed to fade from Zuko's eyes.

"You misunderstand the history we have if you think my feelings to be so shallow."

"How am I supposed to believe anything else?" Their eyes met in a heated clash of wills for a moment, daring the other to make a move. Zuko couldn't help but let his eyes wander down to her long, slender neck, where he saw his mother's necklace shining in the minimal light. He couldn't say he was shocked. After their last encounter, she had vowed to never remove it. But still, it brought back memories. Zuko leaned back in the booth, admitting momentary defeat.

"I'll take a coffee, and get one for yourself. We have a lot to talk about."

-888-

Katara gripped the handle of her coffee mug tightly, staring down into the steaming liquid. She had emptied three packages of cream and a whole bag of splenda into her coffee - just like she liked it - but she was yet to take a sip. Zuko, however, had downed half of the mug as soon as she put it in front of him. She was sure he was wishing it was a shot of gin at the moment.

Haru had been suspicious when Katara had told him that she was taking fifteen to talk to this guy. He still saw Zuko as some kind of a threat, and rightly so. Zuko was a leader in the most dangerous profession in the world. There were very few who wouldn't be intimidated by Zuko. Katara was one of them.

"You look good." said Zuko suddenly, shocking Katara out of her thoughts. There was a slight grin on his face, and attraction in his eyes. Katara had seen that look before, and she fell for it every time.

"So do you." she whispered, but she quickly moved to save herself. "I mean, you look different. What are you, twenty-three now?" Zuko chuckled slightly, and fiddled with the napkin dispenser.

"Yeah. But, you are climbing up there, too. Twenty-one, I believe?"

"Yeah. Now when Jet tries so hard to get me to drink, it can actually be legal." They both laughed at this, for Jet was an old friend to them both, and they knew his bad boy act pretty well. It was legendary.

"How is Jet?" she asked as a type of after thought. Zuko's smile fell a bit.

"He was recently added to the Order. He goes by Snapdragon." She couldn't help but roll her eyes. Typical. Zuko suddenly leaned forward on his elbows, looking deeply into Katara's eyes.

"How about you, Katara? How are you?"

Katara suddenly felt very self-conscious. That was the first time he hadn't called her by her code name since he arrived.

"Um, I'm fine. I'll be graduating soon, and I have a good internship lined up for me. I'm living a pleasant life. A _normal _life." Zuko snorted, and leaned back, drapping his long arm over the back of the booth.

"Normal? Katara, I've known you for a long time, and you are anything but normal."

"That's why I left the Order, Zuko!" she shot back, louder than she had intended. "The Order tore my entire life a part, and still expected me to fight for them! I'm tired of judging the Fate of others. I just want to be a citizen again."

"You were never just a citizen, Katara. You were born into the Order, and you are good. Remember when we used to fight together. God, we were great! Don't you miss those days? Those days when you were beyond normal?"

"No. No I don't, really. I missed my entire high school career; I had no friends outside of the Order, I couldn't dance anymore. I even missed my own prom! And then for all of that to lead up to...No. No I don't miss that life at all."

"Some part of you does." whispered Zuko. "How long has it been since you spoke to your brother?"

"Four years." she responded quickly.

"He's still in the Order, you know. But not in the Squad. He is approaching the title of Master."

Honestly, that didn't surprise Katara. Both of them had been born into the Order, and each took their own paths through it. Katara joined the Squad. He was a thinker, she was a fighter. Of course, they were both brilliant in their own right, and both amazing warriors, but Sokka didn't mold into the Squad like she did. She never could quite figure it out, but she felt that she belonged there.

"Why are you here, Zuko?" she asked finally, using his true name for the first time. Zuko smirked.

"Always so hasty. Ever hear of polite conversation?"

"I have ten minutes left on my break, and if Aunt Wu catches me, she'll dock my pay. I don't have time for polite conversation." Zuko shook his head, but still reached into the inner pocket of the black blazer that he had been wearing under his larger coat. He pulled out something extremely thin that was a cross between an iPad and something off of Star Treck. The Order contained some of the most brilliant minds in the world. Of course, all of the members would have technology before their time. Sokka had joked that they were like some kind of James Bond meets Charlies Angels thing. In fact, he wasn't that far from the truth.

Katara scared down at the black screen which only showed the image of a white lotus Pai Sho tile rotating in midair. Zuko pressed down on the screen, and it immediately morphed into a simulated image of a file folder. On the front of the folder read "TARGET" in big, bold letters. He used the touch screen technology to open the virtual file, and a mirage of 3D images sprang to life. Pictures and letters and more files within files. Katara looked around, hoping that no one was seeing this, but no one was noticing them at all.

"Don't worry," said Zuko. "It only looks that way up close. To those around you, it appears to be nothing but an iPad."

Katara nodded, and continued to look over screen.

"Why are you showing me this?" she asked. Zuko leaned over, and touched the image of a file that read "IMAGES" and Katara's mouth nearly dropped. Zuko didn't even have to ask.

All he said was, "We have a new target."

Katara was staring down at a recent picture of the most powerful man in the country, even in his non-political state. Ozai Hiryo was the second son of the "prince of America", Azulon Hiryo, and a money mogul who had conquered Wall Street when he was twenty, and still taking a Business course at Yale. In that time he had founded near thirty Fortune Five Hundred companies, produced multiple movies that broke box office records and dominated the Oscars, and hosted his own talk show. He was also the head of the largest underworld crime ring that New York had ever seen, with branches in Chicago, LA, London, and Tokyo. He was also Zuko's father.

"Wow." was all that Katara was able to say.

"Exactly." said Zuko. "My father's crime ring has become too large. It rules a good bit of the world. In order for the balance to remain, he must be brought down before the government is effected any more than it already is."

"But...he's your father, Zuko..."

"He disowned me. The inheritance that has been passed down through the Hiryo family since the nineteenth century went to my sister."

"But, Azula is..."

"Still a member of the Squad, yes. Now you see why this expressed a bit of difficulty for the Order. Trust can not be wholly placed in Black Rose (aka Azula), and I cannot do this by myself. That's why the Order sent me out to find you. My father's has an army made up of the most powerful gangsters, assassins, and underworld lords flanking him. In order for us to even get close enough to pull this off, we need to bring the old gang back together."

Katara stared down at the screen, the image of Ozai smiling at the camera, his brilliant white teeth gleaming, and his long hair pulled back in a low ponytail. He looked handsome enough, but the evil could still be seen in his eyes.

"Come back to us, Sage." she heard Zuko whisper. "Come back to the Order."

Katara tried to swallow, but she found her mouth uncomfortably dry. She left the Order, she made a vow. Now, here was the ultimate hit staring her in the face, and she was being begged to take it. Zuko was right, she still had a little Sage the assassin buried inside of her, and she was screaming to take the job. But she wasn't who she was anymore. She wasn't the little girl playing Buffy meets Totally Spies anymore.

She glanced down at her watch, and quickly stood, almost tripping over herself.

"My break is over." she murmured. "I gotta get back to work."

"I'll be waiting." answered Zuko. Katara turned to walk away, but felt herself stop, as if her mind no longer had control. She looked over her shoulder, locking her eyes with her old partner in death.

"I'll think about it."

* * *

**AN: Just something I forgot to mention, all of the members of the Squad have code names that are the names of flowers (Sage, Blackthorn, Snapdragon, Black Rose, etc.). You know how in Kill Bill, all the member of the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad have code names that are snakes? Same idea. White Lotus Assassination Squad...code names that are flowers. Kinda cheesy, I know, but I liked it. So, I hope you enjoyed, and review, please!**


	2. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "Avatar: The Last Airbender"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Alright, back by popular demand, another chapter. I really don't have the time or energy to dedicate a whole lot to this story, but people are really liking it, so I'm gonna write another chapter. So, please don't send me hate mail if I don't update for a month, or even a few months. But, for those eight of you who have asked for more - by the way, thank you for reviewing - here you go. So, enjoy, and please review!

P.S. If I continue this, I might change the rating to M. Just a heads up.

* * *

SWEET DREAMS (ARE MADE OF THIS)

Katara glanced at her watch, and let out a long, exasperated sigh. It was past seven, when she got off. She looked up, and, sure enough. Zuko was still sitting at his little booth, typing away at his bootleg iPad. He said he would wait. Katara was hoping that he was just trying to scare her, but of course, he wasn't.

Katara turned in her order booklet, and clocked out on the board in the back of the kitchen, along the same line that she filled out every week.

"So, you weren't joking when you said he wouldn't leave." said Haru with a smirk when he walked up to clock out, as well. Katara sighed again, and pushed her arms into the sleeves of her large coat.

"Nope. I never joke when it comes to him. I guess you'd say he's not the joking type. At least not when it comes to annoying me."

The two remained silent as Katara wrapped the scarf knitted by her grandmother around her neck, and stuffed her hands into her mittens.

"So, whatcha doing tonight?" said Haru suddenly, breaking the awkward silence. "Not homework, I hope."

"Haru, I don't even know if I'll be doing homework tonight. I have to find some way to deal with _him_, and that could take days." Katara fixed her ski cap on her head with a huff.

"Now, goodnight Haru. And please, don't call. If Zuko tries to kill me, trust me, you'll hear about it."

-888-

Zuko stood outside the door to the diner, taking a smoking break, waiting for Katara to appear. Funny thing was that four years ago, he didn't smoke. Actually he appalled the idea mainly because he had grown up watching his father smoke cigars like a chimney. Now, he couldn't go six hours without stepping outside. If only it wasn't so damn cold.

Finally, the thick glass door opened with a _whoosh_, and Katara stepped out into the frigid cold, bundled up like an infant on their first snow day. Zuko couldn't help but laugh.

"Since when have you been afraid of the snow?" Katara squinted at him with a scowl.

"Since when did you smoke?" Just to make her point clear, Katara grabbed the cigarette out of Zuko's mouth, flicking it into the rising snow before turning and walking down the sidewalk towards the train station. Zuko glanced at the sacrificed cig and shrugged.

"I was through anyway. So, have you decided?" he called from a few feet behind her. Katara rolled her eyes, but couldn't help herself from slowing down, secretly hoping that he would catch up.

"How can you expect me to decide when you asked me, like, five hours ago?" she asked once he was close enough to hear her without having to shout across the sidewalk.

"If I remember correctly, you were always good at making up your mind quick, fast, and in a hurry."

"That was on missions. Situations where you, Blackthorn, would rush in without any plan of action, any back-up, and expect everything to go smoothly. If it wasn't for me, we would have died a thousand times over."

"But we didn't. Besides, if it wasn't for me, all of your little plans would have fallen through because they would take so bloody long to work through." Katara suddenly stopped, turning to face Zuko, who turned out to be only a few inches behind her.

"Well, maybe if you..." Suddenly, his eyes caught hers. She felt wonderfully warm, even in the frigid cold. She also felt right. It had been so long since she'd even thought about her life in the Squad that her mind welcomed the change from international politics and European art history. She felt alive again.

"No." she mumbled to herself, backing up slightly. "No, I'm not doing this, I'm not falling into the pattern again. Stop trying to arouse me!"

Zuko's good eyebrow corked up, and a playful tint returned to his eyes while large snow flakes fell on his eyelashes.

"Arouse? Interesting choice of words, Katara." The way her name rolled off his tongue in that annoyingly smooth way of his made Katara's knees buckle slightly. Memories of memories came flooding back to her like a tidal wave. She suddenly wondered if he was still an amazing kisser.

_Don't do this to yourself, Katara. He's been sent here to woo you back, don't forget that._

"Katara..." Katara blinked once, and focused her eyes back on Zuko, who was waving his hand obnoxiously in front of her face.

"I'm assuming that you're heading back to New York tonight?" asked Katara, mostly from wanting to break the intense tension. Zuko's smirk returned, and he shrugged his wide shoulders.

"No, I planned this trip to be kind of...spontaneous. I leave when you say yes." Katara rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Of course. You're staying down town, I assume?"

"Actually, Katara..." Zuko took a few steps towards her, closing the gap between them. "I was planning on staying with you."

Katara's heart burst in her chest. He couldn't be serious. His great grandfather probably owned every hotel in Chicago, and he wanted to stay with _her_? This just turned into the worst day ever.

-888-

The red line "L" train bustled on, packed near to capacity with people just trying to get home. Katara shared an apartment with a roommate in Lincoln Park, which was a good distance from the diner. Apparently, Zuko had never taken the L before, so this was bound to be an exciting experience for everyone.

Zuko had his arm draped over the back of the seat, allowing Katara to leave more room on the train for others. If things could go her way, she would be sitting on the opposite end of the train, as far away from Zuko as possible. But, of course, things never went her way. At least not today.

Katara's eyes kept landing on a kind-faced old lady who sat across from her. She was smiling in a type of far off way, which reminded Katara of the woman from the Notebook. The woman's eyes seemed settled not only on her, but on Zuko, as well. What was this lady's problem?

Suddenly, the old lady leaned forward, and whispered, "You two are a beautiful couple."

Katara immediately moved to correct the endearing lady, but Zuko beat her to it.

"Thank you very much, ma'am." he said, beaming. Katara snapped her head around to stare at him with a scowl. Zuko only shrugged, and wrapped his arm tighter around Katara's shoulders.

"There's no use lying to the kind lady, Katara."

"Zuko, we haven't been a couple for four years! We haven't even spoken in...I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you." Katara threw up her hands, and diverted her attention somewhere else. She could hear Zuko snickering next to her, and she couldn't help but smile.

-888-

"How long have you been living here, exactly?" asked Zuko as Katara fiddled with her keys. The apartment building wasn't bad, especially for a college student. On the corner of a safe street, and three stories up without an elevator, it was okay. But it wasn't what he expected. He remembered Katara in flowing ball gowns with the most elaborate hotels in the world as her backdrop. But, of course, those ball gowns would soon be drenched with blood, with the bodies of her latest victims scattered around her. Zuko wondered for a moment if it was bad that those types of memories were turning him on.

"My roommate and I have been here for about two years." answered Katara when she finally managed to open to door, and turn on the closest lamp.

The interior of the apartment reminded Zuko of a type of decor caloge. Apparently, Katara and her room mate had very different tastes, and were content to mold all of their furniture together into some kind of compromise.

The couch was obviously Katara's idea. It was an odd green color, and took up almost all of the main living space. It was some kind of plush material that looked comfy enough to fall asleep on, but Zuko still didn't trust it.

"Nice couch." he said, motioning towards the large piece of furniture. Katara shrugged off her coat, and hung it on an extremely old looking coat hanger by the door before making her way towards the back of the apartment where he assumed the rooms were located.

"I found it at a yard sale. We needed a couch, and it was cheap and comfy, so we bought it. It's pretty much the only thing in the apartment outside of my room that I picked out. The rest was Song's brilliant decorating skills."

"Song is your room mate?" asked Zuko as he circled around the living space, crossing into the miniature dining room. He could hear Katara's voice echoing throughout the apartment.

"Yeah. She was my room mate freshman and sophomore year, and we decided early to put all of our money together and move off campus."

Zuko stopped in front of the old fireplace, his face even with the mantel. His eyes focused on a framed picture of a little girl with big blue eyes, mocha skin, and two big pig tails on the sides of her head, holding a samurai sword in perfect form, smiling at the camera. Her two front teeth were missing. Zuko couldn't help but smile.

"So, where is Song this evening?" he asked, his eyes still on the picture. Katara suddenly appeared in the living space, wearing large black sweat pants, and a blue turtle neck. Her thick hair fell around her shoulders like a chocolate water fall.

"She's gone to Ohio to visit her family for the week. It'll just be the two of us."

A terribly sinful idea suddenly entered Zuko's mind.

He smirked, and began to slowly move towards a shivering Katara - even though he doubted it was from the cold.

"Just the two of us?" he asked in a husky voice. He could see Katara's throat bob as she swallowed.

"Yeah," He was directly in front of her now. "Just the two of us."

Zuko could feel her body tense as his presence invaded her space. It had been four years since they had been this close. It was an intoxicating feeling, knowing that if he only leaned down a bit, his lips would be on hers. Those plump, beautiful lips that he had once adored for hours. On it's own accord, his hand moved up from his side, and lightly touched her neck. His eyes locked with hers, silently asking her to stop him. But she didn't.

"Oh. My. GOD!" A voice belted from the doorway, causing Katara and Zuko to literally jump apart. Suddenly, the source of the voice appeared in the entrance to the living space. The girl who Zuko assumed to be Song was rather pretty with long brunette hair, and large grey eyes. She was wrapped up in a large coat, just like everyone else in Chicago, and was pulling a large rolling suitcase behind her.

"Katara, I hope you're home, because you will not BELIEVE what I just went...oh." Song finally seemed to notice that there were more than just one person in the room. Song's eyes slowly scanned Zuko's form, and a mischievous smirk spread across her heart-shaped face.

"Katara, you didn't tell me you had company." Katara immediatly moved a good few feet away from Zuko, as if her guiltiness increased the closer she was to him.

"Well, you didn't tell me that you were coming home early. I thought you were in Ohio." Song's attention suddenly shifted.

"Oh, I was, and I was actually enjoying myself, too, until my sister and her jerk off boyfriend showed up. God, I hate that man. Then, my sister told everyone that she was pregnant, then my mom started crying, then my father started chasing her boyfriend around with a shot gun, and things just got out of hand. I figured I would be better off just staying home." The room mate's attention then shifted back to Zuko. "But, who would have imagined that I'd come home to _this_ in my living room. And you are...?"

"Zuko." he said, quickly crossing the room, and extending his hand. Song's eyes widened as he grasped his hand in a firm shake.

"Zuko? As in Zuko _Hiryo_? Katara, I can't believe this is the guy you've been running from for the past four years." Katara's cheeks turned a deep shade of red.

"I haven't been running from him. I just haven't seen him in a while, that's all."

"Oh please, you have gotten any since sophomore year, and the only excuse you could give is the guy that you..."

"Song!"

"What?"

"Ladies." The room mates quieted down as their attention turned to Zuko, who felt slightly awkward standing in the middle of these two power house women. "Dinner?"

-888-

Katara was absolutely beside herself with frustration. Not only had the man who was once the center of her world showed up unexpected, asking for her help, but he had to stay at her place, and her room mate had to "spontaneously" come home from a trip that was supposed to last a week. All of it was just so ridiculous, it was amusing. But, she had to admit, it was a blessing that Song showed up when she did. Otherwise, Katara and Zuko could have ended up in a very...uncompromising situation.

Now they all sat around the small dining table, eating left over chinese, talking about college. It was like a scene from "How I Met Your Mother".

"So, Song, Katara mentioned that you were pre-med?" asked Zuko as he picked at his chop suey. Song nodded, and dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin.

"She told the truth. My dad got really sick when I was little, so I decided to become a doctor so I could take care of him myself. Besides, people say I've always been good with sick people. I got Katara through a week of Mono."

"Yeah, by putting me through doctor boot camp." said Katara with a laugh. "I was like your undead cadaver."

"I thought it was a good chance to practice! All that matters is that you got better right? Of course, right. So, Zuko, tell me about yourself. I have to admit, I'm awfully curious about the man who caused Katara to take on a self-induced, four year long dry spell."

Katara tried to gasp, but with the food in her mouth, it sounded more like gag-choke. Zuko patted her on the hand, asking if she was alright, and she shot him a death glare. He was enjoying this way too much.

"Well, Song," started Zuko after he made sure Katara wasn't choking on embarrassment. "There's not much about me that you can't find out on Google. I grew up in Manhattan, I'm studying at Columbia Law, I reside still in Manhattan, my favorite color is red, and I have a dog named Benji."

Katara's head popped up from her plate.

"You still have Benji?"

Katara could still clearly remember the day when she surprised Zuko with a black and white Akita puppy on his eighteenth birthday. His father was bellowing about the thing not staying in his apartment, but Zuko wasn't even listening. He fell in love with the dog at first sight.

"He misses you very much." said Zuko, his eyes locked on Katara. "He still won't let anyone sit on your part of the sofa. It's like he's guarding it for you."

Katara couldn't help but blush. Zuko and Katara were practically living together once upon a time. It was beyond awkward talking about days that would never come again. But, leave it to Song to make things humorously awkward.

"So, Zuko, is it true that you have a huge..."

Katara quickly knocked her glass onto the floor, causing it to shatter, stop Song before things got bad.

"Oh, Song, look I dropped my glass. Could you help me clean it up, please?"

Song wasn't letting up, however.

"I was just asking the man about his..." Katara suddenly grabbed Song's glass, and practicly threw it onto the floor.

"Oh, Song, it looks like you dropped your glass, too. We should go to the kitchen so we can clean it up." Katara didn't even give her time to say anything else before she pulled Song out of her chair, and practically dragged her into the kitchen.

"What the hell are you doing?" hissed Katara once she had Song safely in the kitchen, and out of ear shot of Zuko. Song shrugged, but there was a playful glint in her eyes.

"I'm being a good hostess. It would be rude of me not to engage the man. By the way, amazing catch. Where do you even meet guys like him, the Royalty of America Club Conventions?"

Katara shrugged, leaning against the counter.

"We were in the same club in high school. It was kind of an exclusive thing."

"Well, I would love to be in that club. I did Chess Club in high school, and as you can imagine, it wasn't exactly a social hot spot. He's not staying here, is he?"

"Apparently, he is. He refuses to leave."

Suddenly, a light bulb seemed to go off over Song's head, and her face lit up. Katara knew that look.

"Oh no, Song, you _are not _hooking up with him!" Song held her hand to her heart, as if she was seriously offended.

"You offend me, Tara! What kind of girl do you think I am? Besides, I wasn't thinking about me, I was thinking about you. This guys shows up randomly, still carrying some kind of a flame for you, and is set on staying in your place tonight. This is just what you need!"

"Song, this is not going to happen, okay? He just stopped by to say hi, then he's leaving, probably never to be seen again for another four years. That is all! Right?"

Song sighed dejectedly, and nodded her head.

"Right. Has anyone ever told you that you're no fun?" Katara smiled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Everyday of my life."

-888-

The evening had gone surprisingly well, from Zuko's point of view. He had not expected Katara to actually let him stay at her place, and, for a moment, was willing to believe that he would be waking up with her in his arms. But, her bad timing oriented room mate snuffed out that candle. Not that he didn't like the girl. She was smart, and sassy, and had a mouth that made him blush. She was a good friend for Katara; someone who could loosen her up. She never was exactly "footloose", but she wasn't always so conservative, either. Zuko remembered days when they would play in the pouring rain like children, just because they could. But, that was the past, as she didn't hesitate to remind him every ten minutes.

Now, he was sprawled out on Katara's hideous couch, wrapped up in about three layers of blankets. Song was set on making sure their guest didn't freeze to death in his sleep, and Zuko found himself grateful for it. Did the apartment even have a heating system?

To keep his mind off of the numbing cold, and the fact that Katara was asleep in the next room over, he searched his inbox on his Lotus.30, the newest version of the iPad for the Squad. Not to his surprise, there was a message from the Grand Lotus.

**Grand Lotus: How's it going?**

Zuko ran his hand through his mop of hair, wondering if he should bother to send a response. He didn't really feel like being badgered, but when the Grand Lotus sent you a message, it was wise to just go ahead and send your answer before you received a horse head in your bed.

**Blackthorn: She is stubborn. Everything I try, she shoots back at me. I had almost forgotten how difficult she was.**

He tapped the send button, and waited for the response. Barley five seconds later, his screen lit up.

**Grand Lotus: Would you love her if she was any other way?**

Zuko thought for a moment, staring at the screen, his hands folded under his chin. Finally, he cracked a smile, and typed in a response.

**Blackthorn: No. **

Zuko was suddenly shaken out of his cyber conversation when he heard a door open down the hall. He quickly put his Lotus.30 on hibernate, and closed his eyes, hoping to feign sleep.

He listened as the soft pat of bare feet on wood grew closer to him. He assumed that whomever was up was heading to the kitchen, maybe for a glass of water, or something. But, to his surprise, the feet stopped. Directly in front of him. He closed his eyes even tighter, like a kid who refused to get up in time for school.

"Stop playing around, Zuko, I know you're awake."

Zuko allowed a smirk to play at his lips. Katara.

He slowly opened his eyes to see a bedraggled Katara standing before him, both hands on her hips, and a cross between annoyance and amusement on her face. She wore a large maroon hoodie that encompassed her entire torso, and half of her thigh. "U of C" stretched across her chest in white, bold letters. Plaid flannel pajamas that looked about three sizes two large covered her legs, much to his disappointment. He had secretly been hoping that she decided to sleep in shorts.

"Trouble sleeping?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Instead of answering Katara sat on the end of the couch, by his feet, her back stiff and straight. Seeing that she meant business, he sat up, his back pressed against the armrest.

For a moment, they remained like that - in silence. Voices drifted up from the streets, along with sirens, buses, and all of the sounds that came with living in the city. The lights passed over Katara's face, accentuating the contours of her face in an eerily beautiful way.

Finally, she spoke.

"I'll do it."

Zuko didn't even ask for her to explain. He could have hugged her. He could have kissed her. He could have done anything she asked him to do. Then, she started talking again.

"But, I have demands." And cue the buzz kill. Zuko groaned, and leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Of course you have demands. You wouldn't be Sage if you didn't. So, give me the ballpark, what do you want?" Katara sighed, and seemed to relax slightly.

"First off, just because I'm helping with this target does not mean that I'm rejoining the Order. After this mission, I return to being a _normal _citizen."

"You don't even want to be on Master Bumi's "fun fact of the day" mailing list?" asked Zuko, smirking. Katara shot him a glare, but didn't bother responding .

"Second, I want compensation."

Zuko couldn't help it. He had to laugh.

"Compensation? What ever happened to helping the common good?"

Katara only shrugged.

"I'd like to get my masters, and that takes money. Besides, when we were in the Squad, the Order took care of us. Paying in cash is a much more...direct way of doing the same thing."

"Fair enough. Anything else?"

"Yeah. You and me. Our relationship needs to remain as neutral as possible."

Zuko tensed slightly.

"Meaning?"

"No sex."

Zuko blinked.

Well, that was blunt.

"Are you...sure?" asked Zuko, not really sure what else to say. Katara nodded her head.

"Yes. We will only complicate things more if we dig up old graves."

Saying that Zuko was pleased with her logic was a vast understatement, but he understood it. This mission was too delicate to mess up with emotions. Even emotions as passionate as the ones they once shared. But that didn't mean he couldn't milk it, did it?

Zuko leaned forward, lessening to distance between him and Katara.

"What if you want it?" he whispered in a deep, husky voice that he knew she liked. Katara shivered slightly, but her eyes stayed locked on his.

"I'll live."

Zuko stared into deep sapphire, searching for any last hint of doubt. It was there, faint and flickering, but there. He only smirked. He would deal with that later.

"Deal."

Katara exhaled deeply, like she had been holding a never ending breath.

"Alright. When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"What do I tell the school?"

"The Order will draw up something nice for you. Don't worry, you'll graduate on time. We can tell Song that you're going to visit your brother...which might not be that bad of an idea."

"Watch it, Blackthorn." Katara stood, obviously ending the conversation. Zuko watched as she walked behind the couch, heading back towards her room.

"Night, Zuko." she called from the doorway.

"Night. Oh, and Sage," Katara looked over her shoulder, locking her eyes on his. "Welcome back to the Squad."

* * *

**AN: So, there you go! I know Song's character is vastly different in the series, but I really wanted Katara to have a sassy room mate. Please don't hate me! So, thank you for reading, and please review! **

**P.S. If you haven't noticed, the chapters will be named after songs. This one was "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" by Eurythmics.**


	3. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "Avatar: The Last Airbender"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Now this story won't leave me alone. I never knew I would enjoy writing Zutara so much! Yeah, so here's another chapter! And thank you guys so much for all of your quick support, I'm loving that people are liking this idea so much!

* * *

GOODBYE YELLOW BRICK ROAD

Katara stared at her half-packed bag, scowling. Zuko had no idea how long she was going to be gone, so that kinda put a damper on her packing plans. The HQ for the Order was in upstate New York, so she knew it was going to be cold, but not nearly as cold as Chicago. Now, she was in the midst of an inner battle between a really cute, tailored military style black coat, or her usual puffy ski coat the made her look like the Michelin Man. Cute or warm. Cute or warm. Finally, Katara came to a resolution, and went with cute. It had been four years since she had seen these people, and she wanted to make an impression.

Zuko was right when he said that Song would believe their story. In fact, she supported it. She knew that Katara had issues with her family, and thought it best for her to take a break from school to catch up with everyone. That, and she still thought that Katara would be getting some in the next few days. Like that was going to happen.

Taking a not so necessary break from packing, Katara took a short walk to the kitchen to fix some more coffee. The apartment was utterly quiet apart from the steady mumbling of Katara's iHome back in her room. Song had already left for her early morning classes, and Zuko had been told to go out and find some breakfast since he refused to be of any use to Katara when it came to packing. Really, all he did was go through her closest and comment on every article of clothing that she had.

On one early morning scene, Zuko was found studying one of Katara's dresses while she packed a duffel bag full of shampoo and make-up.

"You should pack this." he said, handing her a strapless black dress that Song had gotten her as a practical joke.

"Are you joking? I've only worn that once, and it was to a Halloween party." Zuko snickered.

"Halloween? What were you?" he asked, a suspicious glint in his eyes.

"I was a dark angel, for your information." said Katara as she snatched the dress out of his hands. "I had wings and everything."

"Really?" Zuko grinned in a boyish way, corking an eyebrow. Katara rolled her eyes and ordered him out of her room. Yet, after a few minutes of leaving it abandoned on her bed, she packed the black dress.

Now, she was leaning on the kitchen counter, waiting for the coffee machine to buzz to life. It had been ten minutes already. Her and Song really needed to update their appliances.

Suddenly, Katara's acute ears heard something fall. The apartment was totally empty, so she knew it wasn't Song, who was clumsier than a one legged turtle. She cursed Zuko for making her paranoid.

She could hear movement - subtle and quiet, like the rustle of a bird's wings - but it was there. Katara slowly reached into the sink, and pulled out a bread cutting knife. Whomever was playing thief chose the wrong apartment. The movement suddenly stopped, alerting Katara that the rat had stopped running. With a speed that she didn't even know she still had, she turned and propelled the knife towards the direction where the noise came from, bent on death. But, to her surprise, the knife hit nothing but the wall. She was completely alone.

Katara laughed nervously, running her hand through her wild mane of hair. She was paranoid. That was all. Zuko had brought up a lot of old paranoias when he showed up. That was all. The coffee maker beeped loudly, shocking Katara back into the present. She turned back to face the counter, and was met with a black clad face, and dark grey eyes.

The attacker lunged at her, and Katara immediately went into action by back-flipping over the island, putting distance between her and the intruder. From the distance, Katara got a good chance to study the wanna-be-ninja. They wore all black, and was obviously female by the way her shirt hugged her chest.

"What do you want?" Katara shouted across the kitchen. The woman didn't speak but pulled a small knife out of absolutely nowhere, and threw it at Katara's head. In an attempt to avoid the flying weapon, Katara bent backward, watching as he reflection sailed past her head. The knife embedded deep in the wall behind her, obviously bent on making a kill.

Katara knew from experience that drawing the killer into an open space would be the best way to bring them down. She quickly grabbed a steak knife from the drawer, and raced into the loving room, hoping that the intruder would follow her.

Sure enough, the she assassin was hot one her tail, following her into the living room. When Katara was sure that she had an advantage, she jumped up, pushing against the wall, and turned in the air, effectively kicking the intruder in the face. The force of the kick was so hard that the killer was forced to ground. Katara used that opportunity, to bring down the steak knife, hoping the stab the killer in the side, but they rolled away before Katara could make the killing blow.

The intruder was quickly on her feet again, still coming for Katara. Katara twirled the knife around in her fingers expertly, delivering an invitation. The woman pulled the bread cutting knife that Katara had been wielding earlier out of the wall, and slashed the air with it. Katara grinned, and felt Sage rising up to the surface again. And Sage never ran from a fight.

-888-

Zuko's quest for breakfast had proved to be very beneficial. He had a chance to explore a part of Chicago that he had never known before, and it was refreshing. He understood immediately why Katara loved the area so much. It was cosy and old-American with it's wide sidewalks and ornate brownstones. He could see Katara walking these streets, wrapped up in her coat, her nose buried in a book. That was his Katara. Or, at least, she _was _his Katara.

Zuko now made his way up the winding stairs with two bags filled with bagels and pastries. He found himself almost eager to see Katara again, found his steps hurried and clumsy. When he finally found his way to the third floor, he could hear the sounds of battle immediately. With a new sense of panic, he practically ran down the hallway, repeating the Katara's apartment number over and over again in his head. 306. 306. 306. 306.

Finally, he reached the door, but the noises of battle were even more pronounced. He fiddled with the door handle, and it was locked. Of course it was locked. He put his ear up to the door, and he could hear the clash of metal on metal. Katara was in the middle of a fight, and he couldn't get the damn door open!

Giving up on being subtle, Zuko threw himself against the door, shattering the flimsy lock. Instinctively, Zuko reached into his coat, and pulled out his lucky Ruger Vaquero .357 Magnum revolver, taking a stand to kill.

The scene he came in on was like an excerpt from "Kill Bill". Katara was in the midst of a knife fight with a woman clad in black. The two women stilled when they saw Zuko standing in the doorway, his gun pointed at the intruder.

"Move, and I shoot you in the face." he said in a serious and even tone. Katara once called it his "jason bourne voice". It said don't mess with me, or I'll shoot you in the face. It seemed to work in situations like these.

The intruder looked back and forth between Zuko and Katara, mentally deciding how much of a chance they wanted to take. Deciding to live to fight another day, the assassin used her foot to send a nearby chair into the air, then kicked it towards Zuko's head. Zuko quickly kicked the chair away before it could come in contact with his head, but wasn't quick enough to shoot the lady at the same time. Thankfully Katara was quick. She threw her knife expertly, skimming the woman on the arm, making the cut deep. The intruder seemed unfazed by the attack, the propelled herself out of the open window, into the world below. Katara stuck her head out the window, looking to see how the intruder was going to get out of that one, and saw that the body was gone. That didn't surprise her much. Assassins always had a Plan B.

"Alright, what the _hell_ was that?" asked Katara once she was sure that the hit woman was gone.

"Not sure." said Zuko as he slipped his revolver back into it's sheath. "News of you returning to the Squad must have spread fast. I'll have the Order check it out."

"But this is ridiculous!" shouted Katara with an exasperated sigh "I just agreed to the mission last night!"

Zuko shrugged, and moved towards Katara.

"Welcome back to the Squad. Are you hurt?"

Before Katara could even answer, Zuko was on her, inspecting her arms and torso.

"It hasn't been that long, Blackthorn. I can still survive a knife fight." she said indignantly while Zuko pocked and prodded at her arm.

"You don't look like you just got your ass kicked." he said with a laugh. "But that assassin should be dead right now. Where has your killer instinct run off to?" Katara grinned and snatched back her arm.

"Higher education. Now, where is my breakfast?"

-888-

Thirty minutes later, Zuko was dragging Katara's giant rolling suitcase down three flights of stairs.

"This is ridiculous, Katara!" he huffed out once he had reached the bottom of the second flight of stairs. "You used to travel the world on nothing more than a clutch purse, what is the point of this giant suit case?"

"Well, you refuse to tell me how long we'll be away, or exactly where we are going, so I had to pack accordingly!" shouted Katara from the ground floor. "Now, hurry up, I'm catching a cab."

Zuko took another deep breath, then continued to drag the suitcase down another flight of stairs. He was grateful that Katara had taken the immense duffel bag on her own, otherwise, he wouldn't be able to make it.

When he finally made it to the ground floor, Katara was waiting with the cab driver, an arrogant smirk on her face.

"Having trouble?" she asked with a smile. Zuko only shot her a glare, and handed the rolling bag to the cab driver.

"What airport, sir?" the man asked, a thick South American accent mulling his words together.

"Chicago Midway." answered Zuko as he hustled Katara out the door. Katara creased her eyebrows in confusion.

"Midway? That's a bit small, you know." Zuko only nodded.

"Yeah, a private plane is picking us up. The smaller the airport, the less drama." he said, slipping on his Aviators, even though there was a complete overcast. Katara rolled her eyes, and pulled her coat closer around her.

"Right. Of course. Private plane." Zuko smirked slightly, and opened the curb side door for Katara.

"A Hiryo only flies in style."

-888-

Five hours later, they private jet that had carried them from Chicago was preparing to land in Westchester, New York - the location of the HQ for The Order of the White Lotus North American Division. It was also what the Order affectionately called the "Mother Hen" for the Squad. All other Squad divisions in the world answered to HQ-NA. It was kinda a big deal.

Katara had been folding her airplane safety brochure into sections for the past fifteen minutes, her face glued to the window, watching as a light dusting of snow floated down from the overcast sky.

"Will you stop panicking?" said Zuko from the seat next to her. Even though Katara didn't call it a _seat_. It was more like a recliner for planes.

"I'm not panicking. I'm just nervous. It's been four years since I've seen these people. And why have we arrived so fast? The average one-way flight from Chicago to New York is, like, eleven hours."

" The Mechanist engineered this jet. I don't know the specifics, but, let's just say, it's pretty fast." Katara suddenly perked up.

"The Mechanist? As in, Teo's dad? He's still working for the Order?"

"Oh, yeah. He's the one who designed the Lotus.30. When he's not working for the Order, he's working for the government making 'special super secret stuff'. At least, that's how he describes it."

Katara suddenly felt a bit better. The Mechanist had always been a great friend to her family, and a great friend to her. She had to remember that "these people" were her friends. Her first friends. They would always accept her.

-888-

They landed in Purchase, New York around 2:30 in a private hanger. Katara could barley keep up with Zuko as he navigated through the complicated hallways.

"Shouldn't we be heading towards the front, where a car can pick us up?" she asked as she double timed it next to Zuko.

"I drove here. I parked towards the back so we wouldn't have to deal with security, and all that fun stuff."

Katara was prepared to ask whether that was legal or not, but she decided against it. Zuko had always done whatever he wanted, so bypassing airport security was no surprise to her. Even though, once she saw what he was driving, she understood why he wanted to park away from the usual crowd.

"Zuko, I think this adds a whole new level to your ego."

Katara wasn't sure if she was staring at a car from the year 2120 or the bat mobile. It easily could have been either one. Slick and smooth, the exterior of the two seater was a teenage boy's wet dream. All of the windows were tinted to the point of being utterly black, giving it a mysterious air that gave the car an attractive quality. And it was red.

Zuko was grinning like the cat who just ate the canary. Katara wasn't sure if she'd ever seen him so excited.

"Isn't it great! The Mechanist cooked it up last week and let me take it for a spin. It's only a prototype, but I told him I had to pick you up in this." Katara couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Why? Is it supposed to impress me?"

"No." said Zuko with a smirk as he opened the passenger door. "But it might turn you on." Katara grinned, but the sarcasm could be seen in her sparkling cyan eyes.

"I rather doubt it."

Once they were settled in the car, Katara had a chance to really inspect the car. The dashboard was completely touch screen, complete with spinning lotus pai sho tile, just like Zuko's Lotus.30. Zuko pressed a button that she assumed was the ignition, and the car came to life. It seemed to purr like a content cat, and Katara had to admit, it was a bit of a turn on.

"Ms. Atka*, I would advise you to buckle your seat belt, and hold on to something." Zuko suddenly revved the engine, causing Katara to jump slightly. "Because I like to go fast."

And go fast he did.

-888-

As Katara drew closer and closer to HQ, her nerves began to return. In the air, there was still a chance that Zuko would change his mind and let her go back to Chicago, but now, only five minutes from their destination, everything became real.

"You remember the rules about only using Squad code names inside HQ, right?" said Zuko, attempting to settle the building nodded, but remained silent. "I should probably warn you that we've renovated a lot since the Raid." Katara didn't respond. "Come on, Sage. Everything's going to be fine. I promise."

Before he could even stop himself, he reached over the console, and grasped Katara's hand in his. He expected to be yelled at or slapped, but, to his pleasant surprise, Katara squeezed his hand back.

-888-

Even after years and years of practically living in HQ, it still amazed and awed her. A mansion in it's own right, HQ rested on a hill in the depths of Westchester County. Guarded by a beautiful drive, lined with evergreen magnolia trees, to someone who had never visited before, they'd immediatly assume that they were driving up to Scarlet O'Hara's plantaion...before the war, of course.

At the end of the half a mile long drive, the great mansion of the Order of the White Lotus American Division rose up from the ground like a temple of old. Based loosely off of The Breakers mansion* in Rhode Island - apparently Richard Morris Hunt was a member of the Order (go figure) - the renaissance looking building looked slightly out of place in the All-American landscape.

For the rich residents of Westchester, the Order HQ was known as a "scholar club". Everyone knew it was there, but no one ever built up the courage to inspect it. Not that there was much to inspect. The mansion was beautiful and elaborate, filled with old men and women who radiated pomp and circumstance - much like an Ivy league campus. It was _under _the mansion where the secrets unfolded.

Zuko parked his futuristic bat mobile in front of the extravagant limestone steps that lead to the front entrance of the mansion. As soon as Zuko turned off the ignition, a small, scrawny looking boy with scruffy hair and a slight overbite appeared out of absolutely nowhere, taking it upon himself to remove Katara's luggage from the miniature trunk, even though he could barley lift it out of the trunk.

"Welcome back, Blackthorn." exclaimed the boy, the excitement in his voice making him even more adorable.

"Hey, Lee, think you can park her for me?" said Zuko, tossing Lee the futuristic keys. Lee's face practically erupted with excitement.

"Sure can, Blackthorn!"

"Who's the kid?" asked Katara once they were half way up the limestone steps.

"His parents live in the Bronx. They're pretty poor, and his brother, who used to provide a lot for the family, is in the army. Lee has good potential, and he's a good kid. The Order kind of adopted him."

Katara nodded, and looked back at the small kid who was trying to get the drivers side door unlocked.

"Um, Blackthorn, you're not really going to let him drive that thing, are you?"

"Don't worry, it's child proof. The door won't even open."

Katara felt a wave of warm air wash over when the great oak door opened to reveal the majesty that was HQ. The high, alabaster ceilings stretched on forever, ending in a ceiling mosaic of the first members of the Order, two grand chandeliers lighting the way. Two dramatic staircases that lead up to the second floor rested on the left and right side of the entrance. People were bustling everywhere, most people that Katara had known her whole life. Masters who were guest at her first birthday, and her brother's graduation...and her parents' funeral.

Katara didn't even have time to stare and gawk before Zuko was dragging her in the general direction of the elevators.

"Why are we in such a hurry?" she asked once Zuko had practically herded her into the ten foot long, and six foot wide mother of all elevators.

"I'm just excited about you seeing the renovations." Zuko looked straight forward, refusing to make eye contact with Katara, but she could still see his body vibrating with anticipation.

Katara was prepared to push a button that would send them to whatever floor Squad HQ was located on, but she suddenly realized that there were no buttons to direct them to different floors. Not even an emergency button.

"Blackthorn, how are we supposed to..."

"Hello, Blackthorn." echoed a sultry, female voice over the speakers.

"Hello, NANCY." responded Zuko. Katara couldn't believe he was even talking to this thing. "Squad HQ, please."

"Of course, Blackthorn." answered the voice. The elevator slightly jolted before it began it's steady descent. Katara could only shake her head.

"You know, most elevators just have cheesy music." Zuko smirked, and corked his good eyebrow.

"Jealous, are we?"

"No! Of course I'm not jealous of a GPS on steroids. Another invention of the Mechanist, I'm guessing?"

"No, actually, NANCY is your brother's brain child."

Katara couldn't help but roll her eyes. Of course "she" was.

"What does 'NANCY' stand for, anyway?" Zuko shrugged, and brushed some lent off of his blazer.

"Nothing. He just liked the name."

The elevator suddenly jolted to a stop, signaling the end of their awkward voyage. Katara moved to exit the elevator, but Zuko rested an arm on her shoulder, stopping her.

"Not yet."

Suddenly, everything went dark. Katara waited for the elevator light to flicker back on, but they remained in darkness. Katara was beyond prepared to panic, but then a long tunnel of single, blue lights shone in front and behind her, reminding her of one of those optical allusion tunnel mirrors. It was also then that she realized that the elevator was made of glass.

"Brace yourself." murmured Zuko.

"Brace myself? For wh - UMPH!"

Katara didn't finish her sentence before the elevator practically flew backwards, knocking her off her feet. It took barley thirty seconds before the elevator lurched to a complete stop with a ding.

"Welcome to Squad HQ, Blackthorn." echoed NANCY in that annoyingly sultry voice.

Katara pulled herself to her feet, still terrible discombobulated by her unexpected trip.

"Why didn't you tell me that the elevator was going to do that?" she managed to spit out. Zuko only shrugged, while never letting his smirk waver.

"It's fun to let first timers fall on their face. Now, straighten up, the door is opening."

Katara's anger towards Zuko was quickly forgotten when she saw just how much Squad HQ had renovated.

The entire HQ had been turned into a giant circle, sheltered by glass windows. The floor was all black marble, as were the inner walls. Katara tried to make an assumption of how large the structure was, but it went on forever. The elevator ended in the center of the circle - how that worked, Katara would never figure out - which seemed to be the control center of the entire HQ. As soon as they exited the elevator, a cute girl with big green eyes, decked in black greeted them from behind a slick glass desk, typing away furiously at her giant, see-through desktop computer.

"Welcome back, Blackthorn." she said, glancing coyly at Zuko over the rim of her glasses.

"Hey, Jin. Is everyone back yet?" asked Zuko as he leaned over the edge of Jin's desk in a way that was oddly flirtatious for him.

"Yeah, the last just arrived. Would you like me to buzz them up?"

"No, it's okay. They'll find us soon. Thanks, Jin."

"Anytime, Blackthorn." The girl named Jin cast a quick glare at Katara, then absorbed herself in her computer screen again.

"Is that your secretary?" asked Katara jokingly once they had walked a good distance away from the elevator.

"She's the Squad's secretary. She keeps up with anything and everything." Katara glanced back at the girl, and felt an odd chill run up her spine. Something about Jin made her a bit uneasy. She was about to say as much, when she was nearly knocked over by a rib crushing, life squeezing hug.

"Finally! My lover has returned!" sobbed a voice that Katara would never forget.

"I've missed you too, Jet." Katara managed to gasp out. Jet finally released Katara from his hold, and stared down at her.

Jet had apparently not changed at all. Tall and charming, Jet was one of Katara's closest friends when she was growing up. He came from old world money, a trust fund baby, who had watched his parents be murdered in cold blood when he was eight by an LA gang. It was an initiation. It was not only Jet's past, but his passion for getting the bad guy that made him such a valuable asset to the Squad, and such a good friend to Katara. He had tried to date her multiple times, but continued to weather the multiple denials. But, Katara had to admit, when he stared down at her with that confidant and handsome smirk of his, she thought about reconsidering.

"Come on, Snapdragon, Sage just got back, you don't want to scare her off." Jet moved aside, allowing another one of Katara's oldest and dearest friends to step forward.

"Hawthorne." said Katara with a sigh.

Hawthorne - otherwise known as Aang - was Katara's first friend in the Squad, and her first flame. Aang had been raised among the Shoalin monks when he was a child, and when his mentor, Monk Gyatso, died tragically, Gyatso's fellow Masters in the Order took Aang in. No one would have expected him to become the fighter that he was.

Known as "the Collector" in the Squad, he was the one they sent out when someone needed to be detained or brought in for questioning. Raised to be a devout pacifist, he never killed, and blatantly refused to. Other Squad members would often joke that Hawthorne was the only assassin in the Squad who refused to kill.

Katara embraced Aang, and he held her to him, as if he was attempting to absorb her.

"I've missed you so much." she heard him whisper into her hair. Katara didn't need to answer - Aang knew how much she had missed him.

"Is that Sugar Queen?" shouted a loud, vulgar voice from halfway down the hall. Katara sighed, and released Aang, slightly regretting the next greeting she was about the receive.

"Hey, Nightshades." Around the corner appeared a lither, beautiful girl with thick black hair that cascaded down her back. It wasn't until she started talking when people realized why her code name was Nightshades.

Toph Beifong was the last nineteen year old girl that anyone would expect to find in the most efficient assassins Squad in the world. Born into old and solid money, and the only child of her successful parents who intended on becoming the next Vanderbilts, she was expected to be powdered and paraded until she was old enough to marry a promising suitor. But, when news of her amazing abilities reached the Order, they reached out to her, and she jumped at the chance. Yet, it wasn't just her young age or impressive family that made her a valuable member of the Squad. She was also born completely blind.

"You know, you've missed my birthday, like, four times." said the younger girl as she pulled Katara into a quick hug.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I'll buy you something big and shiny to make up for it."

"Well, it'll have to be pretty big and shiny to make up four the past four years." Katara looked up and saw Suki Sun leaning against the wall, slowly fanning herself with a large, gunsen fan* for which she was known.

Believed to be descended by Kyoshi Sun - the bastard daughter of Gugong Danfu* of the Zhou Dynasty - Suki had been born into an ancient destiny and old money. Her god father - Master Piando, who was also the "Godfather of the Squad" - got her initiated into the Order, and in turn, the Squad. Her skills with a gunsen fan were legendary, as was her blood line. In the real world she was the lost heir of a warrior princess, but in the Squad, she was known as Tiger Lily.

"I hope there are no hard feelings between us, about the way things ended." said Katara as Suki sauntered up to her. "I mean, you were dating my brother, and..."

Suddenly, Suki folded her fan, and jutted it towards Katara at a blinding speed. Katara quickly side-stepped the other girl's attack, and grabbed her wrist. Suki attempted to pull her hand back, but Katara kept a firm hold on it. Suki jutted her knee forward, intending to knee Katara in the stomach, but Katara quickly kicked Suki's leg out from under her, causing her to fall on her back. Katara twisted Suki's arm around in an almost painful position, putting Suki's fan hand at a disadvantage.

"Like I was saying. No hard feelings?" asked Katara as she stared down at her former best friend. Suki smiled, then pulled another fan from under her wide sleeves, using it to sweep Katara's feet out from under her, leaving her in the same position that she once had Suki. Suki smiled, then extended her hand to help up her fallen comrade.

"No hard feelings." Katara smiled, and allowed Suki to help her to her feet.

Jet suddenly threw his arms around Suki and Katara, drawing them into a slightly awkward group hug.

"This is great! The whole gang's together again." he said, wrapping his arms tighter around Suki and Katara.

"Almost the whole gang." said Katara, shrugging slightly out of Jet's embrace. "Where's my brother."

-888-

He had almost finished it. The greatest invention of his to date, and he was so close to being finished. This would top even NANCY. After two weeks of nothing but his lab, he was prepared to say that he was almost...

"Master Sokka!"

The darkness that Sokka's eyes had become so adjusted to was suddenly flooded by a wave of artificial light. Sokka was so shocked by the sudden intrusion that he dropped the microscopic computer chip that he had been meticulously applying to his newest invention. That would set him back a whole week.

"Master Sokka."

"Yeah, Jin?" he asked, slowly removing his first ever invention - microscope/reading/night vision/x-ray/coke-drinking/sunglasses. Suki found them to be pretty ridiculous, but the Mechanist thought they were brilliant.

"Your sister is here?"

Sokka immediately turned around in his office chair, his eyebrows creased in confusion.

"My sister? Katara?"

* * *

**AN: Okay, that was a LONG one. 'Lot of stuff happened, and ya'll met a lot of people. I hope it wasn't as confusing as it seemed to me when I was writing it. Just some footnotes: **

*** Atka is an Inuit name that means "guardian spirit". I thought that is was about time that Katara had a last name. **

*** The Breakers is a real mansion built for the Vanderbilts in the late 19th - early 20th century. **

***A Gunsen fan is an ancient Japanese weapon that is a folding fan made of metal or wood. Pretty much what Suki uses in the series.**

***Gugong Danfo was a real person from the Zhou Dynasty in Imperial China. Of course, Kyoshi Sun is the Kyoshi from the series...just altered to fit into this real/unreal world. **

**Review please! **

**P.S. The chapter title song is "Goodbye Yellow Brick Road" by Elton John**


	4. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "Avatar: The Last Airbender"

AUTHOR'S NOTE:More reviews, yay! Just letting everyone know, this story isn't going to be very long - maybe sixteen, seventeen chapters - because I've been thinking about doing a prequel that goes back to when Katara first joined the Squad after I finished this one. Just a random side note there. Please review, and enjoy!

* * *

RIGHT BACK WHERE WE STARTED FROM

"You didn't tell Sokka I was coming!" shouted Katara, who was currently focusing all of her anger on Zuko.

"Hey, I thought it would be a nice surprise for him." rebutted Zuko, who had his hands held up in surrender.

"And you let him do it!" Katara's anger suddenly swiveled to be directed at the rest of the Squad. Aang was usually the reasonable speaker of the group, so he was immediately pushed forward by Jet, meant to respond to Katara's legendary wrath.

"Hey, Sage, it wasn't our idea! I tried to stop him, but you know Blackthorn. He pretty much does what he wants."

"Exactly." said Zuko as he rested a strong hand on Katara's shoulder. "So, don't worry. I am sure he will be glad to see you again."

"As are we all."

The Squad swiveled around, facing the new voice, and immediately bowed stiffly from the waist as a sign of respect. Walking towards them, a long, black trench coat billowing out behind him, was Master Piandao, the Godfather of the Squad.

Once a Squad member himself, Piandao was from a very old British family that had been established on solid foundations of money, the arts, and martial arts. He had been one of the greatest warriors that the Squad had ever known, and was a master at every weapon and martial art that the world had ever known. Once he had grown too old to fight as an assassin of the Order himself, he was established as the "Godfather" who governed the young Squad members by assigning their missions, training them, and making sure they didn't get themselves killed.

"Godfather. It's great to see your stoic face again." said Katara humerously as the older man swept her into a tight hug.

"It is a pleasure to see you, as well, Sage." said the Godfather as he drew away. "I'm assuming that your presence here means that you've accepted the mission?"

"For now." said Katara with a shrug.

"I say we drug her and chain her up in the attic to keep her from running off again." said Toph, forcefully jabbing Godfather in the side.

"That is a great idea, Nightshades, but I'm afraid that would be constituted as kidnapping." Piandao coughed deeply, before straightening himself up. "Now that everyone's here, we'll meet in the Black Room for briefing."

"Not everyone's here yet." interrupted Jet. "Where's Black Rose?"

"Who knows." stated Suki.

"Who cares?" added Toph.

"Black Rose's location is something that will be shared in the briefing, if everyone can stop diddling around, and convene there. _Now_."

Before anyone could even speak, Piandao was gone, his black coat dramatically flaring behind him.

"Well, he hasn't changed." said Katara as she watched her old Master walk away.

"Yep. He's still the British pain in the ass that he's always been." said Jet with a laugh.

-888-

The Black Room turned out to be the most epic conference room that Katara had ever seen. When she was in the Order, they're briefing room was an over-sized closet. Now, it was the Pentagon.

"Wow." she mumbled, as she stared at the giant screen that flickered with thousands of images. It was the only thing illuminating the room, casting eerie, bright shadows on everyone's faces.

"This is really cool." she finally managed to say.

"Yeah, it is." said Jet as he came to stand next to her. "I love upgrade year. Teo really hooked us up."

"Teo's working for the Squad now?"

"Yeah, he's our resident nerd."

"I prefer the term 'tech guru'." Katara couldn't help but smile when she saw the smartest - and sweetest - boy she had ever met roll up to her.

Teo had always been the braniac, and Katara loved him even more for it. Because of an accident that took away his ability to walk, he was not able to join the Squad, but that didn't mean he didn't hang around whenever he could. His incredible intelligence made him a valuable member of the team, and his cuteness made him just fun to be around. Also, he was a founder of the computer company that would grow to be bigger than Microsoft. That was kinda cool, too.

"Nice to see you back in action, Sage." he said, pulling her down into a hug.

"Don't get too excited, I'm jut helping out."

"She's been saying that all day." said Zuko, who had popped up out of absolutely nowhere. Teo nodded, and adjusted his rimless glasses.

"Ah, so she's in denial."

Suddenly, Aang popped up. "That's what I'm betting on."

"Wait, there's a bet?" shouted Toph.

"Guys!" excalimed Katara, silencing the room. "I am still here, you know?"

"Take your seats, please." said Piandao as he entered the room from some secret door. Like an obedient class, the Squad shuttled themselves into large, theatre seats arranged strategically in front of the giant screen.

"Now, you all know that we have a new target that is on the priority list for the Squad. Light me up, Teo." A few seconds later, Ozai Hiryo's face dominated the entire screen. Katara felt a chill run up her spine as she stared into those bright, golden eyes that held so much fascination, and so much malice.

"Ozai Hiryo - put your hand down, Nightshades, I know you can't see - the highest profile target that we have ever had. Also, the most dangerous. Killing him will not be easy."

"That's what makes it fun." exclaimed Jet from the back.

"Yes, and that's also what makes it dangerous. Next slide, please Teo." The next pictures to appear on the screen were of two girls - one with a pale, stoic face and glossy black hair, and the other with big grey eyes, and a bright smile. Katara thought that they were a rather odd pair, but didn't think much of them.

"Let me introduce you to Mai Miyazaki and Ty Lee Gray."

"They're kinda hot." commented Jet. Katara turned around to shoot him a glare, and he winked in return. Yep, that was Jet for you.

"Hot, and deadly. These two are Ozai's most trusted body guards. Mai is twenty three years old, and already one of the deadliest killers in the world. Her father is a prestigious presence in Japan, and has a lot of pulls in the Tokyo underworld. Mai is a master of the knife, and can kill stealthily and silently. You don't see her coming until you are dead. Ty Lee is the exact opposite. She was born into an Ohio showbiz family - pageant girls, musicals, dance recitals, gymnastics - with six identical sisters. Her parents pushed them all to their limits to make them the best. Ty Lee was picked up by a rival assassins squad because of her gymnastics skills, and knowledge of the human body. She uses no other weapon besides her body. Also, her bubbly attitude makes her an unexpected killer. They both went to university with Black Rose, and that is how Ozai picked them up. They are both paid handsomely to protect this man."

Aang slowly raised his hand.

"Yes, Hawthorne." said Piandao, motioning towards Aang.

"So, these two are the only ones protecting Ozai?"

"Good question. No. Next slide, Teo."

The next faces to appear were multiple. One was a middle-aged man with obnoxiously large sidebruns, and a pompous smirk. The other was a small, yet intimidating man with a villainous goatee, and a long braid that ran down his back. There was something in his eyes that exclaimed "do not trust me", like a rat, or a snake.

"Zhao and Long Feng." uttered Zuko immediately.

"More body guards?" asked Suki.

"No." answered Zuko, his face stoic. "Best friends. My father never goes anywhere without them somewhere close by. They were even at my fourth grade piano recital."

"Blackthorn is correct." said Piandao. "These two are Ozai's right hand men. They are also a thousand times more dangerous than him. Zhao Moretti is Ozai's dirty man. He is the one who stains his hands with the blood that Ozai spills. His father was a prominent member of the Chicago Mafia and his mother was the daughter of Kazuo Taoka*, so he knows how to kill, and isn't afraid of it. He is also brilliant - graduated top of his class at Yale.

"Long Feng Smith has the same intelligence and killer instinct as Zhao, but with more charm. He is the business behind Hiryo Enterprises. All of the money runs through him. He is also the head of Ozai's personal army, the Dai Li. A skilled group of fighters who guard Ozai at public events, or occasions that involve large crowds. They are all mutes so as to not give away any of Ozai's more illegal secrets if arrested or kidnapped."

"We can avoid them easily." said Hawthorne, scratching his bald head. Piandao did not agree, however.

"We do not want to simply avoid them, Hawthorne. Chopping off a branch doesn't kill the tree. In order for Ozai's entire corrupt empire to fall, all of his minions must fall, as well. That is why all of you are needed for this mission.

"In a week, Ozai and his possy will be leaving for Paris, France. On the surface, it's a retreat for his buisness partners, but underneath it is his annual check-up on the crime ring that he runs there. You will all be going. Sage. Blackthorn. You'll be going undercover."

"Undercover as what?" asked Katara, who had been quietly listening throughout the entire briefing.

"Yourselves. Blackthorn will be himself, and you will be his girlfriend."

Katara's head almost burst.

"I'll be his _what_?"

"Oh, this is gonna be fun." said Nightshades with a smirk as she propped up her feet.

"Blackthorn is already Ozai's son. You will be the only other member of the Squad who will be able to get close enough to him to kill him." Katara wasn't following that logic.

"Um, what about Black Rose, his daughter? I'm sure he trusts her more than his disgrace of a disinherited son's ex-girlfriend." Katara cast a quick glance at Zuko. "No offence."

"None taken."

"Black Rose isn't on this mission." said Piandao quickly. "In fact, she is not even aware of it. Her relationship with her father is on a very thin line, right now. Since she has been appointed as heir to his empire, her loyalty can stand for question. If this does not go well, Black Rose may end up eliminated, as well."

The room sat in silence as they meditated on the latest news. Black Rose was a prodigy in the Squad - possibly a better killer than Sage. Hearing that they might be required to eliminate a sister was something that made the intensity of the mission hit home. After a moment, Piandao coughed nervously.

"Um, moving on. The rest of the Squad will be in Paris, as well, but as tourist, or interns, or simply faces in the crowd. If Sage and Blackthorn get into trouble, they will have back up. And let me assure you, they will get into trouble. Is everyone clear on the mission?"

"Yes, Godfather." echoed the Squad. All besides Katara that is, who was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she would be playing the role of Zuko's girlfriend...again.

Piandao nodded his head, then motioned towards Suki.

"Tiger Lily, take Sage to the Closet, find her some new clothes." Katara crinkled her brow, and stared down at her outfit. In knee high Frye boots, skinny jeans, and her black, army style jacket, she thought she looked pretty good.

"What's wrong with my clothes?" Piandao smirked, his eyes slowly scanning Katara's form.

"You are going to have to play the part of American royalty in order for Ozai to accept you. You're going to have to look the part."

-888-

Katara quickly decided that she hated her clothes, if it meant that she could dress in clothes like _this_. Vera Wang, Louis Vouiton, Armani, Burberry, D&G. And the jewelry. And the purses. And the shoes! It was like Barneys for assassins.

"You have got to be kidding me." she said as she stared in awe at the enormous, finely furnished warehouse that they dare call a closet.

"Yeah. It's pretty awesome." said Suki with a proud smirk on her face.

"Do you ever just...?"

"Try them on to try them on? Oh yeah."

"How many can I borrow?"

"As many as you want."

Katara suddenly realized that she really did love her job.

-888-

Zuko shifted his feet uncomfortably as the elevator continued to climb up to the third floor. He had been summoned by the Grand Lotus Master, and that was either very bad, or very good. It most likely had something to do with Katara. Just thinking about her, he couldn't help but smile. She was falling back in love with the Squad, and he could see it in her eyes. She had missed the life that she had lived with them. She had missed him.

The elevator suddenly jolted to a stop, shocking him out of his thoughts.

"Office of the Grand Lotus Master, Blackthorn." recited the automated female voice.

"Thank you, NANCY." The doors whoosed open with a bing, opening to a bright space, flooded with light. The roof and walls were made of glass, giving it ample access to the sun at all times of day. The large room was sparse when it came to furniture - a few chairs here, a small table there. The items that owned the room were ancient Japanese antiques that dated back thousands of years. Zuko was always amazed every time he entered the room by the pure amount of old stuff that was kept in the office. At the far end of the room, there sat a large, extravagantly decorated mahogany desk, a golden lotus tile engraved on the front.

But, it wasn't behind this desk that had ushered the rule of thousands of Grand Lotus Masters that Zuko found his superior. It was in the far corner, among a vast collection of plants and shrubs, that he saw a short, round man with a finely trimmed white beard bent over, humming to himself.

"It's a long, long way to Ba Sing Se...Oh, Zuko! I didn't hear you come in." said the elder man when he noticed Zuko standing at the entrance of the room.

"Uncle. You summoned me?"

"Oh, come now, Zuko, don't be so serious. Sit, pour yourself some tea. I hope you're trip home went well?" Zuko nodded, taking a seat in front of the desk.

"As smooth as you promised, uncle. Accept, there were some problems this morning. Sage was attacked in her apartment by an unknown assassin. Possibly a rogue. Possibly not."

Master Iroh's face suddenly became very serious. His large, overly upholstered chair creaked as he eased himself behind his desk.

"Was she hurt?" Zuko shook his head, and poured himself a cup of tea from the antique set in front of him.

"She's still Sage. She can hold her own in a fight. But, that's not what worries me. Why would anyone want to kill her now? I mean, it's been four years since she left the Squad. If someone wanted her taken care of, they would have gotten it over with already."

Master Iroh shrugged, and leaned back in his chair.

"It is possible that rumors of Sage returning to the Squad have spread to rival firms. She was a terrible threat when she was in her prime, there is no reason for anyone to think that she wouldn't be as skilled now."

"But, after two days, Uncle? The only people who knew about Sage possibly coming back were the original gang, the Godfather, and you. There is no way our Lotus.30s could have been hacked. I don't know why but it...scares me that Sage is being targeted now. She has been out of action for so long...Don't get me wrong, I know that she is perfectly able to take care of herself, but that assassin that attacked her wasn't killed. The old Sage would have ended her in barley a minute. Sage was knife fighting the girl for ten."

Master Iroh nodded slowly, but then his eyes settled on Zuko. A silly little half grin spread on his ancient, yet surprisingly youthful face.

"You haven't smoked." Zuko blinked, his eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"You haven't smoked since last night. Am I correct?"

Zuko sat, staring at his hands for a moment, before smiling slightly. Iroh was right. He hadn't smoked all day; hadn't even thought about taking a smoke. His rational side told him that it was all of the anxiety from the upcoming mission that made his moods all off, but his more romantic, hopeful side told him that it was Katara. She changed him, even when she was being that new, stiff, "normal" Katara, and not the all bets off Sage that he had grown up knowing. It was a strange feeling, being so emotionally altered by someone after only being with them for a day and a half. Especially after spending four years being relatively numb. But he had to keep reminding him that they had an amazing love once upon a time, and maybe if he directed the right amount of energy, he could find it again.

"I know what you're thinking, and it's not going to work." Master Iroh's voice pulled Zuko out of his deep thought. He blinked once, his eyes focusing on the older man, who was frowning, but held a laugh in his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"You're thinking about using this mission to revitalize your old relationship with Sage. Don't do it. This is too delicate a situation for that. Sage already came with her demands, correct?"

Zuko rolled his eyes, and ran his hand through his thick hair.

"Yeah. No membership, she wants compensation, and no sex." Iroh flinched dramatically.

"Harsh demands, nephew."

"Tell me about it. But, I'm still working on at least getting her to join the Squad again. The field just isn't the same without her. Even our rivals can see it. When Hawthorne brings them in for interrogation, they ask about the pretty dark-skinned girl with the killer shot."

Master Iroh laughed half-heartedly, as if his mind was somewhere else entirley. Zuko could sense it, and did not appreciate being left in the dark when it came to those he loved.

"Why did you call me up her, Uncle?" Master Iroh sighed deeply, and wrapped his large hands over his small tea cup, inhaling the scent. His newest brew.

"Zuko," he began, his voice heavy and prepped for a speech, "I have not had the opportunity to really talk to you about targeting your father..." Zuko knew where this was going.

"Uncle, please, I don't need an intervention. I've already decided that I am completely dedicated to this target, as I am with every target. Do you doubt my loyalty to the Order?"

"No, Zuko, of course I don't. But, I do doubt your loyalty to yourself. Do not push your limits. You know what happened the last time you did."

Zuko flinched. He didn't like to think about that day. It was a harsh day for the entire Squad, for the entire Order. Many good people were lost that day, and a lot of friendships were broken. That was also the day that Katara had left the Order, supposedly forever.

"I better go make sure Snapdragon isn't trying to rape Sage, yet." said Zuko as he quickly stood, ending the conversation.

"Please, don't avoid this, Zuko. Talk to Sage. She's always been a good listener." Zuko nodded, but didn't respond.

"Nice talking to you, Uncle." With that, the elevator binged, and the door whoosed open. The last thing he saw before descending was his Uncle's silhotte in front of the setting sun.

-888-

"I think I like the red one better." said Jet, his hand buried in a bowl of popcorn.

"No, I like this one alot better. It looks younger." commented Aang.

"I really like the blue one, it brings out your eyes." responded Suki.

"I think they all look great!" exclaimed Toph. The Squad all turned to shoot a dark glare at Toph, who simply waved her hand in front of her non-seeing eyes dramatically.

"When are you gonna stop playing the blind card?" asked Jet with a corked, perfectly plucked eyebrow. Toph grinned, crossing her ankles.

"When it stops working."

"Guys, none of you are helping, here." said Katara from her pedestal, surrounded by three way mirrors. She wore a floor-length, strapless black gown with a lace back, that fit to her body like it was painted on. She had been in the midst of an inner struggle over evening gowns, and the Squad was kind enough to offer their opinions. Even though they were really not helping at all.

"Choose the black one."

Everyone's heads snapped to turn and see Zuko leaning against the door frame of the Closet, his arms crossed, and an odd type of smirk on his lips. Katara felt her heart jump a bit.

"Yes! Thank you, Blackthorn. See, I was right, it's the black one."

Katara looked herself over one last time, studying every angle, then nodded her head in finality.

"It's the black one."

The room erupted into a chorus of cheers and groans. Zuko simply looked on in amusement.

"Is this really what you guys have been doing with your time for the past half hour?"

Katara hopped down from the pedestal, the mermaid style tail of the dress flaring out around her.

"Yep. Surprised you finally decided to join us."

"I had other business to see to. Now, get out of those expensive clothes, and come with me. It's time I showed you your room."

-888-

Katara followed Zuko down a long, straight hallway that reminded her a lot of her freshman dorm. Each side of the hallway was lined with nondescript black doors that had no adornments besides a series of number and letter engraved into them.

"What is this, some kind of barracks?" she asked after a moment of silence. The muscles in his back flexed as Zuko shrugged.

"You could say that. But, we like to simply call them the Dorms."

They finally came to a stop at the door engraved with the symbols, 55A2. Zuko took a small, simple iron key out of his blazer pocket, and quickly unlocked the door.

Katara stared at awe at the room that looked _nothing_l ike a space that belonged in a dorm. The room was small, but shaped like an egg split down the middle, making it seem larger. The bed was a queen platform, low to the ground and very modern. There was also a small table, and a contemporary chair, but that was all that adorned the room. A large window covered an entire wall, giving a marvelous view of the large lake that HQ bordered. Her luggage was already situated neatly on the bed, even though she had almost forgotten about them.

"That door over there leads to the bathroom, and there's a small closet behind the door. It's not much, but..."

"It's fine." interrupted Katara, her eyes locking with Zuko. He smiled down at her, his golden eyes dancing, before Katara quickly diverted her gaze. She couldn't let herself get caught like that again.

For a moment, they both simply stood there in an awkward, tense silence that made the air in the room seem heavy and uncomfortable. Finally, Zuko cleared his throat, releasing some of the tension.

"So, um, the cafeteria in the mansion is always open, that's where we usually eat, and I'll see you tomorrow. Bright and early."

Katara nodded nervously, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Bright and early."

Zuko cast her one more heart-wrenching glance before leaving her alone in the silence of her room. With a heavy sigh, Katara fell back on her bed, letting the air mattress absorb her body. All of the weariness and stress of the day began to roll off of her body in waves, allowing her mind to finally reach some state of calm. She felt like she could fall asleep right then, when she heard an all too familiar voice in the doorway.

"I'm still the only one who can sneak up on you, hugh?"

Katara popped up into an upright sitting position, her eyes wide and slightly fearful. Before her, leaning against the door frame, was her brother. He looked so much older than she remembered. His usually short cut hair was steadily growing, beginning to look very much like their father's. Sokkka wore a white button up over dark wash jeans with a skinny black tie. She remembered the days when he would live in his Beavis and Butt-head novelty t-shirt. Now he was beginning to look so much like a man. But at the moment, his countenance radiated nothing but anger.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" her brother asked of her, his voice harsh, and his eyes icy. "Don't you think I deserve to hear something after four years of silence? God, Katara, do you know how worried I was about you? How worried _Gran_ was about you? You don't just abandon your family, and run off the Chicago like some 1950's reject! And now I have to hear from Blackthorn of all people that you're coming back. I should have been the first one you called! I promised Dad that I would take care of you, and I can't do that if you're always acting so damn..."

Sokka didn't have time to finish his prearranged rant before he was wrapped in a tight, constricting hug by his baby sister. Katara could feel him standing stiff and rigid in her arms, but that only made her hug him even closer, like she never wanted to let go. She didn't even realize she was crying until she saw the stains on his shirt.

"I'm so sorry, Sokka." she sobbed into his chest. "I wanted to call you and Gran, I did, but I was so scared. So scared of what would happen if I came back. All of the memories of Mom and Dad and Yue...I couldn't do it, Sokka. I couldn't do it."

Finally, with a force that rivaled even her hug, Sokka wrapped his strong arms around her back, burying his face in her thick hair.

"It's okay now. I know it was hard for you after everything you had seen. I miss them too, 'Tara, more than you could ever know, but I miss you, too."

"I missed you, too, Sokka."

They stood like that for a moment, wrapped in the love that had been threatening to overflow for years. Sokka and Katara had their differences, but they were always close. They were all the other had. It was like breathing fresh air after years underground.

Sokka finally began to pull away, allowing Katara to wipe away her tears with the back of her hand.

"Now, let me look at you." he said, holding her at arms length. "Wow. You look like a grown woman."

"I am a grown woman, Sokka." said Katara with a laugh.

"No. You're still my baby sister. And I'm going to knock Snapdragon's teeth out if he tries to grope you again."

Katara hit her brother playfully in the chest, even though it still caused him to bruise.

"Sokka! Seriously?"

"What? I never liked the guy, you know that. So, you and Blackthorn..." Sokka rose his eyebrows, animating his face. Katara rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

"Don't stress yourself, nothing's going on between us. It's part of my contract." She plopped herself down on the edge of the bed, crossing her arms.

"You have a contract?" said Sokka, sitting himself down next to her.

"Yeah. No membership, I require compensation, and no sex." Pause. "With Blackthorn." Sokka stroked his developing goo-tee for a moment, in his signature thinking pose. After a moment, his face lit up with a mischievous half smile.

"I like those odds. I like them a lot."

* * *

**AN: Yeah, I know that was kind of a weird ending, but at least Sokka and Katara are together again. So, please review! Also, the title song is "Right Back Where We Started From" by Maxine Nightingale **

*** Kazuo Taoka: a yakuza Godfather who was known as the "Godfather of Godfathers". Pretty much a bad a** guy. **


	5. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "Avatar: The Last Airbender"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Whoa, it's been a while! I'm so sorry for the long update, I have had a major case of writer's block with this story. Also, this chapter's going to be a bit short, and I apologize. Enjoy!

* * *

IF IT WASN'T FOR BAD

_The first thing she realized was the cold. It was what woke her up in the first place. She shivered, pulling the blanket her Gran knit closer around her, but it didn't help. The chill still touched her skin. Giving up on sleep for the moment, she opened her eyes, looking upon her empty room. It wasn't a large room, but it was good enough for an eight year old girl. The minimal light provided from the rising sun gave a gray hue to her entire room. If she wasn't used to the look, she would have been frightened. _

_She always woke up around this time on Saturdays. That was the day that daddy and Sokka would go fishing with Uncle Bato. It was a tradition for the males of the Atka family. Katara used to be jealous, but now, she was perfectly happy staying at home, helping her mom cook a nice big breakfast. It was tradition. _

_Speaking of breakfast...Katara suddenly sat up in bed, her long, thick hair spreading out in a mess on top of her head. She didn't smell any bacon cooking. Every Saturday morning when she woke up, no matter how early or late it was, there was always bacon cooking. It was then that she realized something was wrong. _

_Slowly, she slid out of bed, tossing the blankets aside, and lowered her feet onto the cold hard wood floor. Her body guivered from the cold, and she struggled to make her night gown longer as to cover her bare legs. Daddy always left the heat on in the morning, so her and mom could wake up to a warm house. _

_Then, she thought she heard the sounds of talking from downstairs. Maybe daddy was home, or he never left. There were some Saturdays when daddy had to go to work, and didn't get home until late. But, he had made a promise to Sokka to take him fishing today. And daddy never went back on his promises. _

_Katara knew somewhere deep inside of her that she should stay in her room, and just wait for mom or daddy to come and tell her it was alright to come out. That's what they said to do if there were ever strange people in the house. But, Katara was curious. She crossed the room the the large door that Sokka had painted to look like a castle, even though she though it looked like a giant elephant. She slowly turned the knob, and pushed against it, causing the hinges to cringe as the door swung open. _

_She stuck her head into the hallway, hoping to see their german shepherd, Appa, running down the long hall at full speed to meet her, but he wasn't. The hallway was silent, and empty. She looked down the hall, struggling to see if Sokka's door was open. He only left his door open if he was home. But it was closed. She could still hear the sounds of talking. _

_Katara slowly eased out into the hallway, and began to make her way towards the stairs, her hand resting on the wall. She could hear her mother's voice clearly now. It was usually soothing and melodic, but now it was just filled with anger and fear. There was a man's voice as well, a voice that Katara did not recognize. There was a stranger in her house. _

_She reached the stairs, staring down the long flight, her eyes focused on the floor at the end of them. She was afraid to go downstairs, afraid of the stranger, but she knew that her mom was down there. So, she would be safe. _

_The sound of her feet patting on the hard wood, and the voices in the kitchen, were the only sounds that Katara heard. Usually, Appa would be barking at the cars driving by, or racing up and down the stairs. But he wasn't anywhere. Katara was tempted to call his name, but decided against it. _

_When Katara finally made it to the bottom of the stairs, she could hear the voices clearly now. _

_"Please. I have children. I'm not even in the Squad anymore." she heard her mother say, her voice broken, and laced with pain. _

_"They told me that you would beg, Aster. That's why I decided to take on this job myself. I wanted to hear the great Aster beg for her life." The voice of the man was harsh and scary. It sent a chill up Katara's back. _

_Suddenly, Katara felt her foot hit something, almost tripping her over. She looked down, intent on moving whatever it was that almost gave her away, and almost screamed if she hadn't clasped her hands over her mouth. _

_Appa lay in a puddle of blood, his eyes wide and blank, staring up into her face. There was a bullet hole in between his eyes. Appa had always been her protector, her great lion, ever since she was a baby. Now he was lying still, never to move again. _

_Katara knew that especially now, she should just turn around and go back to her room. But she couldn't stop. It was like she knew what was coming around the corner. _

_"You know, everyone always thought you were so beautiful." said the man's voice. "They used to call you White Rose. That is, before Columbine stuck his cock into you, right?" _

_There was a painful sound, like someone being kicked, and Katara's mother let out a moan of pain. Katara could feel the tears rolling down her face, but she didn't dare move her hands from her mouth to wipe them away, lest she let out a scream. _

_"So, that's it, right Foxglove? You came here to kill me for vengeance. Because I broke your pathetic heart?" _

_"No, beautiful Aster, I came here to kill you for money. But, yes, vengeance is a nice bonus." _

_"Columbine will kill you. If he does not, the Squad will." _

_The man laughed a laugh so filled with darkness and malice that it made Katara's heart break. _

_"I hope the Squad comes after me. In fact, I'm counting on it." _

_Katara rounded the harsh corner that served as the seperation between the kitchen and the dining room, and she saw her mother flat on her back on the kitchen floor, her thick brown hair matted together by blood, and her beautiful face covered with cuts, bruises, and blood. Katara noticed that her mother was wearing the silk nightgown that her and Sokka had gotten her for Christmas with snow shoveling money, but the sky blue was stained with deep crimson. Her smooth mocha skin was scarred, and the bone in her right arm was protruding from the skin in a way that made Katara almost vomit. _

_The man whose voice she had been hearing all this time stood over her mother's body, a gun pointed at her head. He wore all black, with large, sporadic splatters of blood covering his ominous dress. His hair was black, and slicked back, but that was all Katara could see, since his back was to her. _

_"You know, Aster," he said, tightening his grip on the gun. "Any other day, I would have spared you. I would have beat the shit out of you, killed your precious children, and left you here in your own blood for Columbine to come and find you. But not today." _

_Katara let out a small gasp, understanding what the stranger was saying. Suddenly, her mom's head began to slowly turn, her brilliant blue eyes locking on Katara. Katara wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to do something, but she couldn't move. She could only stare into her mother's fading eyes. _

_Her mouth moved, slowly, painfully, sounding out the word like it was lead on her tongue. _

_"Ka...tar...a." _

_Then, the air was split by the sound of a gunshot, and her mother's head exploded. _

Katara jumped up in bed, the breath catching in her throat, suffocating her. Her skin shone in the dim light from the sheen of sweat that covered her body. She could still hear the gunshot sounding in her ears, resonating through time. It echoed in her head, like a wail from a ghost. Katara forced herself to calm down before she hypervenalated, but it was hard. All she could see was her mother's eyes, dull and pain-filled, staring blankly at her. Katara closed her eys, and struggled to slow her breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

Finally, her heart was beating at a normal pace again. Her mind had settled, and the gun shot was slowly fading from her mind. She opened her eyes, and immediatly remembered where she was. Room 55A2 of the Dorms, in Squad HQ. She wasn't back in her drafty apartment in Chicago, and she didn't have a paper due in International Studies.

It had been years since she had had that nightmare, and she thought that the frightening memory was behind her. But, of course, now that she was back, so came the memoires with it.

Katara threw her body over the side of the bed, reaching for the night stand, and grabbing her cell phone. She flipped it open and groaned when saw what time it was. 3:00 a.m. Now, she would never get back to sleep. Usually, she would shadow the bad dreams by going for a run, or watching the home shopping network, or reading a good book. But, she didn't want to go for a light run on the grounds of a mansion, there wasn't a TV in her room, and she had forgotten to pack any of her latest novels. Yet, there was an Olympic style gym that was just waiting to let her pent up frustrations be released.

-888-

Zuko was oddly cheery as he made his way to Katara's room. He had picked up some coffee - cream, with a pack of splenda - just like she liked it, and a blueberry muffin from the HQ's Starbucks. Yes, even the Order HQ had a Starbucks.

He was looking forward to waking her up to the smell of fresh coffee and pastries like he used to. Even though, there would be some slight difference. Neither of them would be naked. A fact of the memory that he greatly enjoyed.

He finally came to her door - room 55A2 - and knocked loudly.

"Sage."

No response.

Big baby, must have been sleeping in.

He knocked again.

"Sage, it's 7:20, I think that's a good enough snooze, don't you?"

Still no response.

"Alright, I'm coming in. Better not be doing anything embaressing."

Zuko slowly eased open the door, expecting to see Katara sprawled out on the queen size bed, lost in a deep sleep, but, instead, he met an empty room. The bed was empty, and neatly made, and her bathroom was emplty and silent. This was certainly the dissapointment of the morning.

"Hey, Hawthorne, have you seen Sage?" he asked when he passed the monk in the hallway. He had been searching for thirty minutes for the woman, still carrying her coffee and muffin.

"No, I haven't seen her, but Snapdragon said that she was in the gym a second ago." Zuko immediatly set off down to hall way, his destination, the Squad HQ gym.

"Why do you ask?" he heard Aang shout behind him.

"I bought her coffee!"

-8-8-

The HQ gym was a temple of fitness and martial arts. Everything was there from a fully set gymnastics course to a shooting range. It was everything an assassin would need to become the perfect killer. And it was where Zuko finally caught up with Katara.

When he entered the grand space, he could see her clearly towards the middle of the gym, kick boxing with a boxing bag like she was a champ. Her hair was back in a high ponytail, and she wore a light blue sports bra that gave better support than a push up, and baggy basketball shorts that accentuated better than it hid. Zuko could barley believe that women worked out in stuff like this.

"It's a bit early for training." he said, letting his voice resonate through the gym. Katara immediatlly stopped, her eyes resting on Zuko. He could see even from the door the blush that rose up her cheeks.

"I'm out of shape." she said, rewrapping her hands. "I couldn't sleep, so I figured I should come down here and work out."

The last thing Zuko would have called Katara was "out of shape". She still had the boxer's abs, and dancer's legs that had intrigued him so in the the first place. Maybe she wasn't as fast as she used to be, or as strong, but her fitness held no question. Then, Zuko developed an idea that could help him move Katara over to his side again.

"Well, you know what the Godfather says about training alone." Obviously shocking the heck out of her, he pulled off his shirt, revealing what she had always called "the body of freaking Adonis". Zuko had never been vain about his looks. In fact, because of his scar, he often hid them. But, he had to admit, it increased his ego ten fold when he heard Katara's audible gasp when he tossed his shirt to the side. He was already wearing jogging pants, so he decided not to give the girl a stroke by dropping his pants. That would be a bit too much...for now.

"Choose your weapon." she said, abandoning the punching bag, and moving towards him in a way that was both intimidating and arousing.

"No weapon." he responded, raising his hands into a boxing pose. Katara smirked, and copied his stance. Then, she charged at him.

Katara spun on her heel, intending to kick Zuko in the jaw, but bypassed her blow, and used the momentary pause to close the distance between them, aiming his fist for her stomach. Katara quickly back flipped away from him, barley missing the blow, and systamatically kicked him in the chin in the midst of her flip. Zuko backed up slightly, rubbing his jaw. He should have seen that one coming.

"Looks like I draw first blood." said Katara, smirking. Zuko laughed, then came at her again.

It was a dance that they both knew, and danced well. It was more strenuous than a quick step, and more intimate than a tango. Their bodies and minds immediatly fell back into step, remembering how the other faught; what moves they liked to use, which leg was stronger, which punch was more damaging. If asked, Zuko would compare it to riding a bike, or making love. Once you knew how the mechanics worked, it was simply an act of going with it.

Both by now had drawn equal amounts of blood, and were having fun with it. Zuko's lip was bleeding, and Katara's thigh was bruised, but neither cared. It was all now a matter of winning.

"We've been at this for thirty minutes, Sage." said Zuko between pants. "How about you just admit defeat now and save yourself the physical embarresment?"

Katara smirked with a pirate smile that made all of the blood rush straight to Zuko's groin.

"Not a chance. I've been waiting for this rematch for four years."

It was most likley true that she had. The last spar they had was interrupted by the Raid, so they never had a chance to see just who was the better fighter. It had been an ongoing debate for eight years.

"Hey, love bird one, and love bird two."

Katara and Zuko turned their heads to see Toph leaning against the doorframe, her blind eyes directed right at them. She was smirking.

"The Mechanist wants to see both of you."

"Now?" asked Zuko with a sigh. He was having way too much fun with Katara. Toph rolled her nonseeing eyes.

"No, next milenia. Yeah, now, Scarface."

Before either of them could come back with a good response, Toph was gone. Zuko turned back to face, Katara, and there was obvious dissapointment on her face. She was having fun, as well.

"Might as well come on, Sage." he said, picking up his discarded shirt and pulling it over his head. "The Mechanist probably has a whole batch of new toys for you."

Katara's head suddenly perked up.

"Toys? We get toys?"

Zuko looked over his shoulder, smirking.

"Like a regular James Bond."

* * *

**AN: I know this chapter was super short, but I have been having this sitting around on my computer for months, and I figured I'd go ahead and upload it. The next chapter, I promise, will be much longer, and will not take as long to update. Thank all of you who have bothered for sticking with me, and supporting this story. And also I'm sorry about misspelled words, my spellcheck was acting up. **

**P.S. The title song is "If It Wasn't For Bad" by Elton John and Leon Russell**


	6. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "Avatar: The Last Airbender"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi...yeah, it's been forever...about a year...but my huge, epic, 264,000 word story that I was working on is now finally wrapped up, so I will now be directing all of my attention to this plot to make it the best it can be. So, look for updates, cause the Squad is coming back. With a vengeance. :)

* * *

I SHOULD HAVE SENT ROSES

The Mechanist's work shop was like Disney World for spies.

The giant, industrial space that the Squad called the Warehouse was lined with miscellaneous items ranging from lipstick tubes filled with a glue stronger than cement, to golf carts that sprouted wings. The room itself was a mess, and constantly so, because of the Mechanist's frantic behavior, but it was an almost brilliant type of chaos. Every little thing had some extreme purpose - some logical, some...questionable. Any normal civilian would about-face and run, but for Katara who hadn't been inside the Warehouse in four years, just like the Magic Kingdom: a place where dreams came true.

"You look like a little kid at Christmas."

Katara broke from her awe and amazement to see Zuko smirking down at her, golden eyes shining behind long lashes.

"Well, can you blame me?" she asked, still looking around the Warehouse in childlike wonder. Zuko shook his head, but still wore a smile on his face.

"Now, be warned, the Mechanist has gone a little, well, crazy since you left."

Katara blinked up at him, confused.

"Hasn't he always been crazy?"

Suddenly, there was a loud explosion somewhere within the bowels of the Warehouse, followed by a miniature mushroom cloud and the sound of intense coughing.

Katara jumped, and instantly felt a strong hand on the small of her back, like a sign of comfort and encouragement.

"Yeah, but now we think he's taking it seriously. Mechanist!"

Then, a large patch of Einsteen-esque brown hair emerged from within the madness, wearing a pair of four-inch thick goggles.

"Blackthorn! My boy, I have been looking for you. How was the car?"

"Drove like a dream. Sometimes, you really are too good." Zuko said, flashing a wide smile, utilizing his infamous charm. He maneuvered them through the piles of half constructed inventions, until they stood before a large, metal desk that, with all of the bunsen burners and flasks and beakers filled with suspicious smelling liquids, looked like a scene from "Breaking Bad". The Mechanist himself was a man as off and unexpected as his inventions.

He was tall and thin, dressed in a long, off-white lab coat with the same ketchup stain on the collar that Katara had seen him sport for five years. His hair, moustache, and beard stuck out in all directions, most likely from some accident with an electrical shortage - those happened a lot. Yet, the one thing about him that Katara did not remember were his eyebrows, which grew in sporadic, uneven clumps. But, Katara had to remind herself, those two words pretty much surmised who the Mechanist was: sporadic and uneven.

The Mechanist had been a friend to Katara's parents ever since they were young, bright-eyed members of the Squad, and when their father died, the Mechanist became a type of mentor for Sokka. He had taken Sokka's sadness and anger, and focused it on to the wonders of science and imagination. Sokka's true brilliance was nurtured and molded under the Mechanist's tutelage, and now Katara's brother was a rising star among the Order, and on his way to being inducted as a Master. Katara knew she owed the man much for holding her brother together after she ran away. Much more than she could ever pay.

Katara was thrown out of her thoughts when she felt Zuko's hand cradle her elbow.

"Mechanist, I brought someone I think you'll be happy to see."

Zuko then took Katara's hand, pulling her forward to stand directly in the Mechanist's line of sight. She smiled widely, but the older man only squinted back at her from beneath dark, thick goggles.

"Blackthorn, where on earth did you find a moth of this size?"

Katara laughed lightly, shaking her head, then reached for the goggles and pulled them up to where they sat on top of the Mechanist's slightly balding head. He blinked at her once, twice, three times, then let out an exclamation so loud and abrupt, that both Katara and Zuko jumped back.

"Ka - I mean, Sage, Sage, stupid rule. Come here, give me a hug!"

Katara went without hesitation, allowing herself to be utterly consumed in the older man's deep embrace. He still smelled of sulfur and Columbian coffee.

The Mechanist finally drew back, holding Katara by her shoulders at arm's length, his eyes running over her, an almost inhuman grin encompassing the entire expanse of his face.

"My, my. Look at you! You are the spitting image of your mother, I'm certain. Tell me, Sage, are you still beating them off with a stick?"

"Mechanist, I'm afraid I am the one being beat off these days." she said with a light laugh. The scientist suddenly threw up his hands, pushing Katara a good foot back in the process.

"Ha! Nonsense! I'd sooner believe that _Star Trek_ and _Star Wars_ are the same thing. Speaking of which, I found something for you!"

The Mechanist turned suddenly, descending into the mountainous terrain of stuff.

"I remembered how much your father loved _Star Trek_, and how he would make you watch it sometimes. I found this shirt that I knew would be perfect for you...if I could just...I know it's in here somewhere. I sat it right on this chair a year ago..."

"Mechanist." Zuko said bluntly, interrupting the mad man's vain search, pulling his scattered mind back to the present situation, which was something that only Zuko and Teo had ever been able to do. "Nightshades said that you wanted to see us."

"Really..." The light instantly turned on behind the Mechanist's eyes. "Oh, yes! Thank you, my boy."

Zuko glanced down at Katara and winked.

"I heard about your new mission. A hard one, I assume."

"Nothing we can't handle." Zuko answered without hesitation, ever the confidant one.

"I have no doubt that you and Sage can 'handle-business' as you say, as always, but my boy, this is _Paris_! Even assassins must have some sense of style."

The Mechanist then produced a large, square suitcase made of some harsh metal, covering a large section of his work table with its mass. It clicked open, revealing a lineup of miscellaneous items that Katara thought too mundane to be a big deal, but the Squad member within her knew better. Nothing the Mechanist made was as it seemed.

"For you, Sage, a brand new make-up compact." he said, producing a small, round, black makeup compact with a White Lotus emblem on the top. She opened it, her once bubbling excitement suddenly crushed when she stared back at her own reflection.

"Okay, what does it really do?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the Mechanist.

He reached around her, pressing his finger to the glass of the mirror, and it suddenly came alive with diagrams and numbers and images.

"This device I thought would be especially useful. It is like a hand-held GPS, but for blueprints. With this, you can download a blueprint of any building you walk into. Every niche, hole, and cranny will show up on this screen. I clearly remember in some of your early adventures with Blackthorn, there were some issues with taking wrong turns in air vents."

"That was totally her fault." Zuko said instantly, not even glancing in Katara's direction.

"Oh, it's my fault that _someone_ couldn't ask for directions?" Katara instantly shot back. "Or at least bring a map. We passed the same dead rat, like, ten times!"

"My point exactly."

The two partners in death looked up to see the mad scientist smirking at them both. Their heads simultaneously dropped in embarrassment.

The Mechanist drew another item out of the briefcase, and handed it to Zuko. Much to their mutual surprise, it was a small pack of maybe twenty cigarettes.

"I didn't know you smoked, Mechanist." Zuko said, opening the pack.

"I don't, and I wouldn't suggest you tried smoking those either."

Zuko took one out, inspecting it closely.

"Why not?"

"They're bombs."

Zuko instantly jolted, and hurriedly returned the small explosive device to its case. Katara snickered, earning herself a dark scowl from the lord of scowling.

"Light one of those, and you'll be getting more than just lung cancer."

"How long do we have once it's lit?" asked Zuko, trying to shrug off his earlier display of uncharacteristic panic.

"Two minutes. It won't take out a city block or anything, but it will cause damage."

The Mechanist then produced a pair of beautiful diamond studs for Katara, and a device that looked like plain white headphones, but with subtle diamond detailing on the buds for Zuko.

"These will help you stay in contact with each other.", the Mechanist explained. "Katara, while wearing those earrings, you can speak in any tone of voice, and Zuko will hear you. To disable them, just twist the back to the left, and vice versa to activate. Zuko, the same goes for you. You speak at all while wearing those headphones, Katara will hear you. There is a small button on the back of the right bud that turns them on and off. Green means go, so make sure to check the color before you say anything you regret."

As well as the teched-out makeup compact and the exploding cigarettes, they were both also given a can of Altoids that were actually miniature trackers, telescope sunglasses that enhanced images from a distance, and eyeliner that was actually a key that could open any lock. Katara was also finally given one of those Lotus.30s, and they were both upgraded with the iPhone size, called Lotus.35s.

"Oh, and before I forget." said the Mechanist, reaching into the pocket of his lab coat, producing a simple car key on a white lotus tile key chain. "This is for the car you will be using while in Paris."

Zuko accepted the keys with a nod.

"Okay, well, where's the car?"

"Don't stress, Blackthorn, it'll be there when you arrive. Just push the button on the key, and you will find it. There are other gadgets for each of you that have already been packed. You'll figure them out eventually. Now, Sage I'm sure you would like to visit your old arsenal again."

Katara's heart instantly jumped when her weapons were mentioned. They were the ones she had used since she joined the Squad, and had become closer companions to her than the other members. When she left, she left behind not only memories, but all of her weapons. She was adamant about not possessing one single reminder of the Squad. She had to admit, some of her things, she had missed.

The Mechanist lead them both through the treacherous terrain, towards the back of the Warehouse. They came to a large, solid steel door that looked down right impenetrable. There was a key pad next to the door, complete with eye scanner, hand scanner, and voice recognition box. It was the made to be impossibly secure, to where only the Mechanist or the Grand Lotus could enter. The password was changed daily, if Katara remembered correctly. Usually, whatever random word happened to pop into the Mechanist's head. Like, "Zapateados", which was the password for the day. Katara never did figure out what that word meant.

The door _swooshed_ open, creaking under the heavy weight, and Katara was greeted with a void of darkness. Then - almost on cue - the overhead lights began to turn on, starting at the door and traveling back and back and back, revealing what felt like miles of walls lined with shelves, lined with every type of gun, knife, sword, and varried weapon one could imagine. Katara could not contain the squeal of excitement. There were certainly days when she _loved_ her job.

"As you can see, we've grown." said the Mechanist as he lead them in, his voice echoing off of the pristine white walls. "After the Raid, the Order made a point of making additions to the Arsenal. We even have some collectors items. But, now, all weapons that aren't personal are kept here. For safe keeping. After a mission, they are returned to their place. A missing weapon results in automatic lock down, so please, _don't lose anything_."

The Mechanist's lecture was now only background noise in Katara's head, for she was so caught up in the wonder of the upgraded arsenal. Being born into the Order with parents who were members of the Squad, she learned how to shoot a gun at a young age, and became even more proficient in the use of the _katana_. It was her father's weapon of choice, so, naturally, she gravitated towards it. It was quick, clean, and elegant. Of course, some other people her age would think that shopping for weapons was a tad morbid, but for a Squad member, it was second nature. A weapon was a tool. They were trained to not question the killing's they performed, or blink when their victims begged for mercy. It was part of their job to maintain the balance. However, when their own began to die, things changed for Katara. Things changed for everyone.

"Okie dokie, here we are." said the Mechanist when they had arrived at a type of display case on one wall of the Arsenal. This wall was specifically used to keep Squad member's personal weapons of choice. There was a wall for Suki and her gunsen fans, Toph and her brass knuckles since she was more successful at hand-to-hand combat, Jet's ostentatiously ornamented revolvers. Then, there was a case with the word "SAGE" engraved in steel over the top.

They were all still there, her six shooters, her semiautomatics, her set of knives that she kept on her person during her missions, and her father's lucky Nagant M1895 revolver that had saved her life on more than one occasion. Mounted above her display of firearms and knives was her first and only _katana. _Her trainer, Master Pakku, made it for her on the day of her induction. The blade was twenty-four inches, the bamboo hilt, ten. The scabbard was made from polished, lacquered mahogany, with the image of a white lotus emblem inlaid with mother of pearl on the surface. It was beautiful and deadly, and one of her most prized possessions. It hurt more than she cared to admit when she left it behind.

The Mechanist opened the case, allowing her to actually hold her old weapons in her hands. The Nagant felt almost heavy in her hand, but the cool metal was a comfort, and it molded into her hold instantly. It was like they had never been seperated at all.

"I can't believe the Order kept them." she said, more to the gun than to the other two people in the room.

"Well, we very well wouldn't throw them out." said the Mechanist with a light laugh.

"Yeah, Sage, we were all pretty mad when you left, but not that mad." said Zuko who was speaking up for the first time in what felt like a while. "I think we all knew you'd be coming back someday."

Katara grinned, lifting her eyes to lock them with Zuko's. She wasn't quite sure what she saw behind them - maybe relief, or sadness, or happiness - but they stirred old emotions within her that she hadn't felt in a very long time. There was a tension there, and it wasn't exactly painful, but it wasn't warm and fussy either.

"So," she said in a bit too-high voice, breaking the trance. "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow." Zuko said after a moment of hesitation. "We'll drive into the City today, and leave in the morning with the rest of my family. So, we - meaning mostly you - should decide what to pack now so it can go ahead and be sent ahead of us."

"Oh, I already packed." Katara responded. Zuko quirked an eyebrow in her direction.

"What?"

"It took you two hours to pack for the flight down here, yet you packed for a week in Paris in half an hour?"

"Well, I knew what I was aiming for this time." Katara said with a smirk. "I'm not _that_ normal. I can still pack for a mission."

Zuko snickered, shaking his head.

"I guess it's good to know that higher education hasn't sucked away all of your soul."

"No, just the part that felt an attraction towards you."

Zuko laughed loudly at that, a bright, joyful light dancing behind his eyes.

"Oh, how I've missed you Sage."

-888-

Two hours later, Katara sat with her feet curled underneath her on the passenger side of Zuko's black Mercedes - apparently, the Mechanist thought the Batmobile would be too obvious - watching the skyline of New York City grow as they sped down the interstate.

Piandao was strict in saying that their cover was going to be key for this mission. Katara was especially to not let up the rouse that she was with Zuko for any reason, or they would be under suspicion, especially by Black Rose. If she sniffed out a mission, they wouldn't make it off the plane, and Katara knew this. It was just that back when her love for Zuko was the only thing she _wasn't_ faking, disguises were simple - almost fun - for her. Now, she was being asked to play possibly the hardest role the Squad had ever called her to play: a recurring one.

"You okay over there?" Zuko suddenly asked. "You haven't said anything since we left HQ."

She turned away from the window to see him slightly reclined in the beige leather upholstered seat, his arm thrown over the back of hers. He wore dark wash jeans with a simple black button-up, and classic boots - an outfit that was surprisingly low-key for him - yet for Katara, it was an instant reaction. When they were younger, it took Katara hours to just get Zuko to wear a blazer, now he dressed like a model. It was strange to think how much he had changed without her. She wondered if she had changed, as well.

"Katara?"

Katara shook her head, shaking out the distracting, nostalgic thoughts, turning again towards the window.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just thinking."

"Okay, that's never good, what's going on?" Zuko asked, straightening his back, his hand still firmly grasping the wheel.

Katara was slightly offended.

"What do you mean?"

"If I have learned anything from my eight years of knowing you, Katara - three of those spent dating you - it's that when you say 'I'm fine, just thinking', you really mean, 'I'm freaking out'. And if we are going to spend the next week pretending that we're together, we're going to have to be open. No secrets on missions, remember? So, tell me what's bothering you so you can stop wrinkling your brow like that."

Katara pouted dejectedly, smoothing out the wrinkles from intense concentration that had formed on her forehead. It was a blessing and a curse that Zuko knew her so well. More often than not, a curse.

"Just anxious about the mission." she not completely lied. "It's not going to be easy getting around Azula, or your father. Speaking of which, how are we going to explain this whirlwind romance of ours?"

Zuko chuckled in an almost natural way, running his hand over the steadily growing stubble on his chin.

"Well, my father already knew I was going to Chicago, he just thought it was for some law seminar, or something. So, I'm thinking that we say that I ran into you at a seedy bar, wearing maybe, that staples black dress of yours, looking absolutely delectable. And, after a few minutes of flirting and witty banter, the sexual tension became too much, and we spent the night in a passionate embrace, where you professed your undying love for me. I invited you to come for the week in Paris so we could become better re-acquainted with each other, and you agreed without hesitation."

Zuko quickly glanced at her, an excited, childish grin on his face.

"How does that sound? Pretty convincing, right?"

Katara blinked once.

"You cannot be serious." she deadpanned.

"Wha- Oh, come on, that's golden!"

"Yeah, maybe for a cheesy airport romance novel. We're trying to make this as probable as possible, Zuko."

"I think that sounds pretty probable." he responded with a smirk, waggling his good eyebrow. Katara only stared.

"You used to be better at this."

"Alright, fine, Shakespeare, what do you think our cover should be?"

"Something simple so we can tell the story a thousand times." she said, curling even more securely into the large seat. "I like the 'random meet up' idea, but not in a seedy bar. Maybe a coffee shop. We talked - just _talked_ - and soon realized how much we had missed each other. I ask if we could maybe have dinner the next day, but you regretfully mention that you can't stay in Chicago because you were planning to take a trip to Paris with your family. Then, you ask me to come along in a suprising show of chivalry. I accept, and here we are."

Katara turned back to face Zuko with a dreamy grin, only to face his disbelieving scowl.

"And you thought my idea was cheesy?"

"There is nothing wrong with that cover, and you know it."

"Yeah, nothing besides the fact that it sounds like the lyrics to an Adele song."

"Well, it makes more sense than your midnight escapades in seedy bars!"

"Oh, how easily you forget, Sage."

Katara turned her head to lock eyes with him, and immediately saw what mutual memory was running through his mind.

"Oh no, please not that one." she sighed, burying her head in her hands.

Zuko continued, unfazed. "Prague, that dirty politician mission. That was a pretty seedy bar, Katara."

"That was not a midnight escapade, that was the immediate effect of boredom." Katara said in her defense. "We had staked out that bar for hours."

"The German piano player with the paisley ascot." Zuko drawled, grinning.

"Don't you dare..."

"_What is a sweet, American girl like you doing in a dangerous place like this_?" he mimicked in a perfect German accent.

Katara couldn't help but laugh at the memory of a too-eager European musician, low lights, and the smell of cigarette smoke and Czech beer. It had been one of their earlier missions as a team, the first one abroad. They spent most of their time at night, in a hole-in-the-wall bar, waiting for their target to show, being harassed by patrons, and daring each other to try the most questionable things on the menu. It had been the start of their friendship.

The air in the car was suddenly lighter, and the tension was beginning to lift. Leave it to Zuko to break down her impenetrable walls without so much as breaking a sweat. The silence that settled over them was now loose, almost comfortable. For a brief moment, Katara forgot what had made her so anxious in the first place.

"I looked for you, you know."

And, there it was again.

Katara sighed, pressing her forehead against the cool glass of the window.

"Can we not do this now, Blackthorn?"

"I'm not trying to start anything, _Sage_." he said, instantly cutting her off. "I'm just saying, I did look for you."

"Did you ever find me?" Katara asked, not even sure where the question came from.

"It took a while, but yeah." Zuko said with a smirk. "You're a damn hard woman to find, when you put your mind to it."

Katara grinned, not bothering to deny it. She knew how elusive she could be.

"Well, thanks for looking, I guess." she mumbled.

"We all looked, Katara." he said in all seriousness. "I guess, I was the only one who kept looking until I found you."

"Why didn't you try to drag me back?" she asked with a dark laugh, even though she was mentally slapping herself. _Why was she torturing herself by asking these questions? _

Zuko was silent for one minute, than two, and Katara for a moment suspected that he wouldn't answer at all. Then, he exhaled, flexing his fingers on the wheel.

"Because you looked happy." he said, his voice strained, yet even. "You looked boring as hell...but you looked happy."

Katara's hand instantly went to the smooth, cool stone around her neck, tracing the wave design with her thumb.

"I was happy." she whispered.

"_Was_?"

Katara's head snapped up, and she was not surprised to see those golden Hiryo eyes piercing her very soul. That was the most annoying that about her history with Zuko: it was nearly impossible to lie to him.

Taking a cue from her previous experiences, Katara chose to not respond, and returned her eyes to the scenery. For ten seconds, she could practically feel Zuko's eyes on her back, but, finally, he let out a strangled sigh, and returned his attention to the road. The car ride continued on like that, in silence.

-888-

New York City wasn't Katara's favorite place in the world, but it certainly wasn't a city she didn't love to visit. It was a place full to the brimming with people, places, and memories.

When she was first starting out in the Squad, part of her cover was to attend a private school in the suburbs with the other Squad members, so they could always be together. Often, when they had the time, they would take trips into the City. Zuko's family also had a place in the Upper East side of Manhattan, so Katara often found herself walking down the wide, clean sidewalks with the most affluent people in the world. Sokka said once that even the air smelled like money. She and her brother were born and raised in a normal house on a normal street in exceedingly normal River Vale, New Jersey. Among the elite of New York, she had always felt like the dog in a room full of cats. Yet, for Zuko, it was natural. He blended in with that world perfectly, without even trying. Another reason why at the start of things their relationship seemed so...odd. He was the prince, and she had undoubtably always been the pauper.

The hustling was bustling just as it always had, and after steering around a traffic jam, five wrecks, and a tourist group from Bulgaria, Zuko parked his stylish roadster in front of an art-deco, fifteen story brick building that Katara had over time become increasingly familiar with.

"You still live here?" she asked when Zuko appeared curb side, opening the passenger door for her.

Zuko only shrugged, closing the door behind her while simultaneously handing his keys off to a valet boy.

"Yeah, well, you know how hard the restate market is now. I'll sell it eventually."

Katara's head spun around towards him.

"Wait, you _own_ that unit? I thought you were just renting."

Zuko smirked at the shock look on her face, as if she should have already guessed this back at HQ.

"My father hates renters. Thinks that if you're going to have something, you should own it. So, I bought it."

Katara only shook her head at his casual, matter-of-fact tone. He just bought a two million dollar unit in upper Manhattan. She could barely make the $500 a month payment on her drafty little shack in Lincoln Park. Then, she remembered. She was speaking to a Hiryo. Hiryo's didn't act like normal people, especially when it came to money.

The heel of Katara's boots clicked loudly against the creole marble floors of the silent lobby, echoing throughout the entire space. It wasn't much in regards to size, but the elegance was par none. The floors and walls were all marble, with a vintage chandelier hanging from the low ceiling. An official looking man in a grey suit stood behind a high desk typing furiously at his computer. When he looked up at the sound of Katara's shoes, an entirely fake - yet very convincing - smile immediately spread on his face.

"Welcome back, Mr. Hiryo. I hope your trip to Chicago went well."

Even the tone of his voice made Katara stand up straighter.

Zuko laughed lightly - an aristocrat's laugh - and placed his hand on the small of her back as a sudden sign of possession.

"Very well, Peter, as you can see."

The men exchanged one of those knowing looks that men gave each other, and Katara suddenly felt like a child being spoken over.

"I see, Mr. Hiryo. A good trip, indeed. You received some mail while you were gone sir, I had it sent up to your unit."

"Thanks, Peter. Have a nice evening."

"You, as well, sir."

Finally, Zuko ushered them into the wide elevator, the reflective door beeping as it closed. Zuko pressed a button, and they began to ascend.

"We still don't have a cover." Katara said suddenly.

"Yes we do, you just don't like it."

"I'm not going to Paris with your entire family thinking I jumped your bones in some bar, Zuko."

Zuko sighed heavily, running his hand through his now rather long hair.

"Okay, fine, how about we compromise? We'll go your route with the whole coffee shop thing, and dinner after. But, Katara, there is going to have to be some romance somewhere. We're supposed to be passionately in love remember?"

"But, not just random acts of primal passion." she countered. "_That_ is unrealistic. Have you been single recently?"

"Oh, don't tell me you're jealous, Sage." he said with a cruel smile.

"Just answer the question."

Zuko seemed to sober suddenly, a darkness forming in his eyes.

"I guess I have always been single. Since you left. I mean, I've slept around, but no serious relationships. Why, what's your plan?"

"Well..." Katara bit her bottom lip tentatively. Her idea was a stretch in fiction and reality. "How about we say that we've communicated for a while - like a month - and we kinda got back together? Say that we met up while you were in Chicago, and decided to give our relationship another try. And you being - well, you - thought you'd have a better chance of seducing me in Paris. Weird, I know, but..."

"No." Zuko said, cutting her off. "No, it's perfect. Yeah, okay so that's what we'll say."

"Okay."

A beat of silence.

"Wouldn't be that bad of an idea, though."

Katara narrowed her eyes.

"What?"

"Giving it another try."

Zuko's eyes turned to her, and she was paralyzed by them. It would be so easy, wouldn't it? To fall back into the dance. But, she had to remind herself that with Zuko came the Order. She couldn't pick one or the other. She was actively shaping her own destiny, now. Zuko would only be a distraction.

The elevator binged again, slowing to a smooth stop. When the doors opened, they were instantly at the unit. It was just as breath-taking as she remembered: modern, sleek, with hints of Zuko everywhere. There were hints of gold and red in the furniture, in the accessories. He hadn't changed a thing, it seemed. It even still smelled like him.

"Welcome back." he said, walking around her as they entered. "Has it changed any?"

"No." Katara answered instantly. _It still feels like home._

The space was suddenly filled with the echo of a high-pitched bark, and the sound of soft padded feet on hard wood. Then, Katara's baby turned the corner, sprinting towards her. Benji was much larger than he was when Katara found him at a local dog shelter five years ago - now coming to almost her waist - but he was still her happy, big ball of fluff. Katara dropped to her knees as soon as she saw him, and he went directly for her. One would think that they had never been a part at all.

"Oh, Benji! There's my big boy!" she all but screamed, allowing the beautiful dog to cover her face in doggie kisses. Katara wrapped her arms around his now wide neck, burying her face in his soft fur.

"I've missed you so much." she whispered. She heard Zuko smirk behind her, and she looked up to see him looking down at her with wide, almost confused eyes.

"What is it?" she asked, honestly curious.

"Nothing, it's just...this. This scene. I just got a bit of déjà vu, is all."

Katara nodded silently. She could relate.

Then, Katara heard another sound coming from the depths of the elegant condo, but it didn't make her heart flutter like Benji's bark. It rather made her heart drop into her stomach. Heels. Sharp heels on wood.

"Zuko? Are you home?"

That was a distinctly feminine voice.

Katara cut a dark, questioning glare at Zuko, which he matched with a nonchalant shrug. Katara slowly rose to her feet as the sound of clipping heels grew closer, brushing the dog hair from her jeans. She internally prepared herself, like she did before every mission. Whatever this new surprise was, she'd be able to handle it. She was trained to roll with all possible punches.

All of that "mental preparedness" vanished when she looked up to meet the cold, dark eyes of Mai Miyazaki.

* * *

**AN: OH, the drama! Anyway, so, first chapter after a LONG hiatus, I hope it was satisfying. Not exactly my favorite chapter, but at least it's a sign that I still want to write this, especially since you all seemed to like the first five chapters so much. So, please review, let me know what you think, and thank you so reading! **

**P.S. The song title is "I Should Have Sent Roses" by Elton John and Leon Russell. If you haven't been able to tell already, I kinda like Elton John...**


	7. Chapter 6

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "Avatar: The Last Airbender"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So got a huge response to the update - like over 200 hits in one day huge - and I hope that means I'm forgiven for my slump when it comes to this story. If not, here's another chapter. It's shorter than the last one, but I really like it. It's more Zuko and Katara interacting than assassin action. So, enjoy!

Also, a note that Zuko's apartment is based off of an actual location - 800 Park Avenue - so if you are curious about what this master condo might look like, just look it up, and you'll find plenty of pictures on real estate sites.

* * *

CHANGES (TURN AND FACE THE STRANGE)

Zuko had prepared himself for this moment five minutes before they got in the elevator. He wasn't sure if Mai would find her way into his flat or not, but he had to brace himself. Turned out his suspicions were correct.

Mai stood in his living room like a Roman statue: beautiful, cold, and hard enough to chip a tooth on. She wore a slick, black long-sleeved dress that was simple as far as design, but expertly tailored, so there was no doubt left in anyone's mind that it was expensive. Her glossy black hair was pulled into a low ponytail, her bangs cut so precisely that they could be measured down to the millimeter. Everything about her was precise and cold, and perfect. But, there was ferocity in her eyes that dared you to make a move. Beneath all of that alabaster that she - like himself - had been raised to wear, there was a killer's fire.

The expression on both of the female's faces was blank, but their eyes were speaking volumes. The tension between them sizzled as they sized each other up, and Zuko wondered for a moment if they would just have it out right in the middle of his condo. Then, Katara plastered on what she called one of her big "welcome to Aunt Wu's" grins, and Zuko felt himself exhale. The game was afoot.

"Mai, I didn't expect you to be in now." he said in a cool manner he had trained for years to perfect. Mai's dark - almost black - eyes turned to him, as sharp as the upwards of fifty knives she kept on her person. Her nose briefly turned up in a type of sneer, but it was instantly gone, leaving her face in that unmarked, stone-cold expression that she always wore.

"Obviously. How was Chicago?"

"Bitterly cold, as always. But a nice trip."

With a possible ghost of a smirk, Mai redirected her attention towards Katara. Her eyes scanned the former assassin slowly, meticulously, from her non-stilletto boots to her levi jeans, to her worn jacket that had seen too many Chicago winters.

"I see you brought home a souvenir."

Zuko winced, for even though the insult was well hidden, it was there all the same. The very tone just screamed "you are nothing". He could feel Katara tense beside him. To balance her - and himself - he placed his hand on the small of her back.

"Right, Mai, this is my old friend, Katara Atka. We went to high school together, and I haven't seen her since graduation. I found her on facebook about three months ago. When I ran into her in Chicago, I had to take her home with me."

"Kidnap is more like it." Katara laughed, immediately playing the part. "But, I suppose when an American prince asks you for a week trip in Paris, you can't really say no."

Mai's eyes flashed.

"Paris?" she deadpanned. "You're coming to Paris?"

"I know, I thought I was intruding, too, but Zuko insisted. And you know how persistent he can be."

Mai sneered, and her eyes turned back to him.

"Yes," she all but whispered. "I suppose I do."

A tense silence suddenly filled to space between the three of them, only occupied by Benji's heavy breathing.

"I'm sorry, I don't believe I caught your name." Katara said, taking the initiative and stepping forward with an outstretched hand.

"Mai Miyazaki." Mai took Katara's hand like it was something dirty that she didn't want rubbing off on her.

"Mai." Katara let the name hang in the air for a moment, and Zuko knew that was a jab at him. "So nice to meet you. Sometimes I forget that Zuko actually has friends."

Zuko tried to hide his smirk.

"Well, since I seem to be overstaying my welcome more and more, I guess I'll leave." Katara said, securing her over-the-body purse on her shoulder. "We passed a hotel on the way here, right Zuko?"

"No, you stay." Mai suddenly said in a low voice that demanded attention. "You are the guest. I will return to my own flat."

The Japanese woman reached over the side of the couch, hooking her black leather Gucci purse on the inside of her elbow. Her movements were stiff, rigid, coordinated. So different from Katara.

She walked past them, unfazed, to the door, pulling on her also Gucci black suede brocade coat in the process.

"I suppose I will see you both tomorrow at the airport." she said, her eyes crossing between them. "Zuko. Ms. Atka."

Then, she was gone with a_ bing_ and a _swoosh_.

As soon as she was out of sight, Katara turned to face Zuko, a cross between disbelief and amusement on her face.

"Just sleeping around, right?"

Zuko groaned heavily, preparing himself for the onslaught.

"She's just a friend, Katara. I met her a few years ago when she came for Christmas with Azula."

"Just a friend? _I'm_ just a friend, Zuko, _that_ girl is _Mai Miyazaki_, she's a target!"

Zuko made his way to the kitchen, hoping to escape her, but of course, she followed.

"I didn't know that when I started seeing her, okay?" he snapped, searching his five star restaurant standard kitchen for the expensive wines. He was in desperate need of a glass.

"So, you admit it, you are seeing her?"

Katara leaned against the large island, her arms folded over her chest, and her blue eyes glaring ice daggers. He felt like he was being scolded by his mother for eating a cookie before dinner.

He finally found a bottle of red, and proceeded to fix himself a glass, and got one for Katara, as well, which she refused with a shake of her head.

"Okay, yes, maybe we have gone out a few times, but it's nothing official."

"She was in you condo, Zuko."

"Peter knows her, he probably let her up."

"Oh, okay, so your doorman knows Mai well enough to let her up to your flat without you being here, yet you aren't official. I hope you're just referring to facebook, otherwise, I am seriously concerned about your mental state."

Zuko took a deep draught from his glass, savoring the taste, before turning back to face Katara.

"You should know that I'm just as shocked as you about this. I never expected Mai to be a target, or associated with one. I never expected my father's name to come up."

Suddenly, Katara was next to him, her warm hand resting on his shoulder. There was true concern in her eyes.

"Zuko, first your father, now your..._girlfriend_. Azula may even become a target. Are you sure you can go through with this - "

"I'm fine, Katara, really!" Zuko snapped, louder than he intended. He stopped short when he saw the sudden hurt in her bright blue eyes. He had seen that look in them before as a result of his actions, and the sting never dulled.

"Sorry, Sage." he whispered. "I didn't mean to yell. It's what we're expected to do, right? To maintain the balance." Even though he struggled to lighten the tense mood, Katara's face was still drawn with concern. He suddenly reached up to brush his thumb against her cheek, an action that was once natural to him, but he stopped himself before he was able to touch her. It was too much, too soon.

"So, let me...um...show you where you can sleep tonight."

Katara drew to a screeching halt.

"Wait, _what_?"

Zuko was confused by her shock, but if it changed the subject, he was okay with it.

"Yeah, I have, like, two guest rooms, don't you remember?"

Katara shook her head quickly, her brown curls flying about her head.

"No, it's not that. I'm staying _here_ tonight? With you? _Just you_?"

The light bulb finally lit up for Zuko, and he couldn't stop the smirk that spread on his face. Katara was nervous about being alone with him. Well, not that he could blame her.

Deciding to work this situation for all it was worth, Zuko began to slowly walk towards Katara, stalking her. She took one step back, and instantly was stopped by the kitchen island. She had nowhere to run.

"Yeah, Katara. Just me." he drawled, letting his lone voice hang in the space. He walked until his frame was almost pressed against hers. "All night. And, you should know," He leaned down until his lips were level with her right ear, then whispered in a voice that would send chills up his own spine, "I don't have a roommate. We won't be interrupted."

He heard Katara's gasp, and felt his heart jump. She reacted to him just as she always had. Maybe his uncle was wrong. Maybe he could turn this situation to his advantage.

Then, he felt Katara's hand push against his chest until he was forced to step back. She stared up into his eyes with a steely certainty, and unbreakable will that he had always loved. She was serious about those "conditions" of hers.

"I guess I'll set myself up in one of the rooms." she managed to get out. "I know the way."

Then, she was gone.

Zuko smirked when he heard her call Benji, who followed her into the condo. Katara was eternally stubborn. But, so was he.

-888-

Katara was trying her hardest not to hyperventilate.

A good front was beyond necessary by this point.

As soon as her mind registered that she was staring into the face of the same girl who had flashed up on Teo's screen, a chorus line of emotions passed through her, battling for dominance. She was of course shocked, but she also felt a moment of curiosity, and the unmistakable green monster called jealousy. She was in the picture when Zuko first started living in that condo - she helped him move in - so the idea of another girl being there was just odd to her. It was something territorial, primal, that popped up in her out of nowhere. The image of Mai sitting on the couch, cooking in the kitchen, cuddling with Benji, sleeping in Zuko's - . But then, she found control. She ran away, for four years, she couldn't expect for everything to fall back into step suddenly. Of course Zuko would have a girlfriend. Just, not a girlfriend who would most likely try to kill them.

All of this anxiety only increased when she realized that 1) She was going to be spending a week with Mai in Paris, and 2) She was going to be spending the night, alone, with Zuko in their old - literal - stomping ground. There was no question that this was going to be a long mission.

She didn't even realize she had arrived at one of the two guest rooms until she stood in the doorway, and the sight of it put a grain of peace in her heart. It was exactly the same as she remembered, as if nothing had changed. The room had been coined by almost everyone - even Azula - as "Katara's room". It was her in almost every way, that was certain. The tones were all pale blue, cream, and neutrals: smooth and calming. The furniture was a four piece set with matching bedding, all costing somewhere around $7,000, but it was still her. *

The first time she spent the night in that room was when she was sixteen, and ran away from home during the winter break after having a huge fight with her father. She got on a bus, not really knowing where she was heading, and at one in the morning, she found herself standing in the lobby of Zuko's building.

He was confused, of course, and had many questions, but when he saw the look on her face, he was kind enough not to voice them. He showed her to the room, let her borrow one of his t-shirts to sleep in, then went back to bed. He wasn't the cuddliest person, and didn't really seem to care what the fight with her father was about, but she found that was what she needed. Just to have a quiet place to lay her head, without the noise, without the expectations, without the ghosts.

Soon, she found herself crashing there when they got back late from missions or she had to come into the city, slowly beginning to leave pajamas and a toothbrush, a phone charger, a few paperbacks. Zuko even started buying the creamer she liked in her coffee, almost subconsciously. By the time they were officially dating, they were practically living together. All she really had to do was move her pajamas into Zuko's dresser.

And it fit them.

Whatever that awkward, weird, thing was they were doing, it fit them perfectly. When Katara stepped into her room, she was stepping back in time, to brighter days.

Katara almost tripped when she ran into something right in the doorway of the guest bedroom. She thought for a moment that her legs had gotten tripped up on Benji, but she looked down to see that the barricade was actually made up of multiple pieces of Louis Vuitton luggage, including three suitcases, a hanging clothes bag, a duffel, a carry-on, and even one of those massive traveling trunks that she was sure was an antique. Apparently, this was the mail that Peter was talking about.

-888-

Zuko retreated into his room, deciding to occupy his mind and time by planning for the trip. He and Katara's outfits from HQ had arrived, packed perfectly in expensive luggage, as always. He packed his carry-on briefcase with the usual: his passport, some cash, a water bottle, some untraceable bullets for his revolver, the usual things.

After he packed and repacked again, he decided to take a shower, which was only wasting time. He just was avoiding Katara. Flirting was fun, of course, but in all honesty he was just as nervous about being alone with her as she was. It wasn't until his pale skin began to prune that he decided to make a retreat.

He stepped out into his large corner room, an almost 360 view of New York extending around him, and instantly heard the sound of someone singing badly, and smelled something wonderful wafting in the air. The tell-tale signs that Katara was in the condo.

Fully aware that he was still half wet and wearing nothing more than a pair of pinstripe cotton pajama pants, he stepped out into the condo, the smell was even more profound. He followed it through the immense living space into the kitchen, and watched in absolute wonder.

Katara stood over a skillet, Benji happily seated right by her feet, singing loudly along to whatever David Bowie song was blaring through her earbuds. Her hair was up one in one of her messy buns, curled tendrils falling around her face at random. Also, she wore one of his shirts - an old one from the one and only high school production he was ever in, an opera called "The Blue Spirit'" - that came to her knees on her. The rest of her legs were bare. The scene was far too comfortable. The reaction was instant.

"If I knew you still looked so good in my clothes, I would have packed you an entire trunk full of my old shirts." he said from his post leaning against the door frame.

Both Katara and Benji jumped at his voice. She spun around to face him, a deep blush staining her cheeks - whether that was because she had just been caught, or because he was shamelessly shirtless, he could only guess.

"Well, all my Paris clothes were packed so beautifully, I didn't want to risk messing them up," she said, turning back to her work. "So, I found this in the dresser. You don't mind, do you?"

Zuko shook his head slowly, letting his eyes take their time skim over her.

"Trust me, I don't mind. In fact, I like your ensemble."

"Look, Zuko, if this is going to be a distraction, I can change."

"No, no, it's alright. I've been trained to handle distractions. No matter how...distracting. So, I see you have once again set up base camp in my kitchen."

Katara seemed as eager to change the subject as he, so she played along.

"Well, it's so big, it deserves to get some attention. Do you ever cook in here, Zuko?"

"Oh yeah, I use the microwave all the time."

That got a solid laugh out of her, for which he was grateful.

"I'm surprised you don't have a personal chef, or something." she said, still shaking with the aftershocks of laughter.

"Thought about it, but no. I don't very much like the idea of people in my home. I guess you couldn't shake all of sulking out of me." He meant that as a joke, but he instantly saw her begin to tense up. Once again, he proved his mastery of diverting the subject.

"What is it that smells so good anyway?" he asked, coming to stand next to her at the stove, leaning down to scratch Benji's head. Katara grinned, moving the appetizing meal around with a spatula.

"I couldn't find much in your huge fridge over there, so I'm making grilled cheese."

Zuko instantly grinned, leaning in closer. Katara's grilled cheese sandwiches were damn near legend. He was never really sure if it was the three different cheeses, or the hint of basil, or the light dusting of cinnamon over the bread that made them so amazing, but there was no doubt that they deserved a seat on Mt. Olympus as gods. He used to live off of them, especially when they'd spend weeks away on more extensive missions. It was hard to believe that he could go four years without them. He'd try to make them himself, but that resulted in a remodel of the kitchen after a potentially dangerous fire.

"Will you please stop salivating over the food? Spirits, you're worse than him." Katara said suddenly, motioning towards Benji.

"Fine, I'll just wait in the living room." he spat with a smirk. "_And_, I'm taking Benji with me. Come on, Benj."

The dog was hesitant at first, but eventually he followed his master into the living room. Zuko sat down, idly flipping through channels, but not watching anything. It was harder than he thought, this whole neutral relationship thing. It was almost effortless to be "Blackthorn & Sage" again. Being just Zuko and Katara was proving to be the most difficult part of this mission.

A few minutes later, Katara entered the living room carrying two plates of heaven. She placed one of them in his lap before sitting on the opposite end of the couch, the side Benji had been guarding.

When approaching a Katara grilled cheese sandwich, Zuko always took his time. He would observe it, inhale it, savor it. Let its essence surround him. Then, he would eat. Always slowly, to take full advantage of every bite. And, he was glad to discover, it was still amazing. He looked up to see Katara smirking at him.

"Honestly, Zuko, it's just a sandwich."

"_Just_ a sandwich?" Zuko snapped, almost chocking. "How could you even say that? That's like me telling my uncle that tea is just hot leaf juice."

He actually did that once.

Earned him a year's worth of disbelieving, disappointed looks.

Katara only shook her head, observing.

"Whatever. So, I've been thinking, and I have plan how to go about the mission - "

"Don't start, Katara." he said before she could even get some wind under her.

"Start what?"

"Micromanaging. The Godfather said the he would brief all of the Squad on what needs to happen once we're in Paris. To cut down on possibly blowing it, I suppose. So, just put your little master plan away for now, it's not necessary."

Katara looked like she was about to pout - he could see the shape forming on her lips - but she stopped herself. He hid his smirk in the next bite.

"Well, then, I guess I'll just review the files on the target before going to bed."

She stood abruptly, crossing in front of him. Great, now he'd gone and scared her off.

"Wait, Katara, it's only seven. Come on, let's watch a movie or something. We never did get to see the end of 'The Prestige'."

Katara sighed heavily before turning back to face him. He could tell instantly by her posture alone that they were not going to be watching a movie.

"Look. Blackthorn, I don't know what this is exactly, but I told you my conditions. Neutral. Sitting on your couch, eating grilled cheese and watching 'The Prestige' is not neutral."

"I'm not saying we should jump right into bed and make love for three days," That was a lie. "I am saying that we can be friends again. To be perfectly honest, Sage, I have missed my friend - my partner - more than I have missed my lover. Even though, if you ever want to jump into bed and make love for three days, I will not stop you."

Even though that got an amused grin out of her, she would not return to her seat.

"I understand. And I've missed my friend, too, Zuko. But, it's been four years. It will take a while for us to be friends again, like we used to be. We have a mission to see through, and for now, I think we should just focus on that. But, maybe. After...I'll watch 'The Prestige' with you."

Zuko knew that he could not expect to get much more than that right then, and honestly, he didn't want it. Katara had just solidified his hope that there would be an after. It was a small victory, but it was a victory.

"Okay." he said finally. "I'll hold you to that. Night, Katara."

"Night, Zuko. Bright and early?"

"Bright and early."

Zuko kept his head facing the TV as he listened to Katara's bare-footed steps fade into the apartment, then the sound of her door closing. Benji immediately jumped onto the sofa next to him, taking Katara's spot. He scratched the loyal companion behind the ear, then proceeded to once again flip through channels. It was a routine he had adopted ever since Katara left, and it had become something like his daily personal torture, but now, he found himself smiling.

* * *

**AN: There you go! Aren't they adorable? Next chapter, the Squad goes to Paris! Thank you so much for reading, and please review! **

*** Katara's bedroom is based on a particular set of furniture and bedding from a very classy - and expensive - home decor company called Horchow. All images can be found on their website, if you want to know what the collections are called just incase you want to get a visual, just let me know.**

**The title song is "Changes" by David Bowie **


	8. Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "Avatar: The Last Airbender"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi. It's been forever. Yeah, I know. My muse is on strike it seems, because I just cannot get up and running on this story. I've had this section sitting in my computer forever, just staring at me, so I decided to go ahead and post it now, instead of making you guys wait for another four months for the complete thing. Please, don't hate me. So, no Paris in this chapter like I promised, but you will get to meet the Hiryos in all of their mystery. So, enjoy!

* * *

FANTASTIC VOYAGE

Benji watched as Zuko paced irritably, glancing every five seconds at his watch, and groaning loudly with every passing minute. The plane left at 9:30am, and it was already 8:50. The luggage had already been taken down to the car. Honestly, being normal had seriously affected Katara's time management skills.

"Come on, Katara!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the condo. "If you're trying to make a good impression, you should know that my father _hates_ tardiness!"

"I'm coming, Zuko, _God_!" he heard her shout back, just as irritated. "And you want to lecture me on being tardy! Rio, 2006!"

Zuko rolled his eyes dramatically, turning his back to the hallway that lead to where Katara's room was.

"Must you do this to me, now? By the Spirits, you're like my mother."

Zuko was so busy fuming that he didn't hear Katara's door opening, and the soft click of her shoes on the mahogany floor.

"Trust me, Zuko, I'd never have the patience."

Zuko jumped at the sound of her voice being so close, and turned to face her. His heart felt like it physically stopped, and he had suddenly forgotten whatever clever quip he had planned to say.

Katara stood before him, smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt. She wore a dark blue turtle neck, tucked into a knee-length knit Dolce and Gabbana skirt that cinched in at her waist, all over black leggings and Burberry ankle boots with significant heel. A navy, wool pea coat was hooked over her elbow along with a signature plaid Burberry bag. Her wild hair had been slightly tamed to fall in loose curls around her face. The only jewelry she wore were the Mechanist's diamond studs, and her mother's simple necklace secured around her neck, as it always had been. She was decked out in almost ridiculously expensive clothes that any woman would kill for, but it fit her. She still managed to look like herself.

"I couldn't decide what to wear." she said with an exhausted sigh. "There were so many clothes, and I never was very good at putting looks together, and I thought since we're going to be on a plane all day - "

"Katara." Zuko said, cutting off her rambling.

Katara's mouth instantly closed at the serious tone to Zuko's voice. He smiled at her softly, sincerely.

"You look great."

Katara bit the inside of her bottom lip, again smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in her skirt. Then, an utterly confidant smirk lit up her face. She unfolded her Chanel sunglasses, placing them securely on her face.

"You're right. I do look great."

Zuko tried not to laugh bitterly as Katara sauntered past him, scratching Benji behind the ear as she left.

"Now, come on, boy toy, let's meet the fam!"

-888-

For all of the sass Katara was struggling to portray, she was unbelievably nervous.

She was not ignorant to the rest of the Hiryo clan, no matter how few of them there were. Azula was in the Squad with her for years, and she saw Ozai when she had to got to events and such with Zuko. She knew very well how by just using their eyes, they could make her feel small and utterly insignificant. If she was going to spend a week with them - both of them - together, for a week, she needed to use every ounce of fake confidence she had. Otherwise they would fry her like a filet before she even opened her mouth.

The drive to JFK Airport was silent, and Zuko didn't seem to be annoyed by that. He just stared out the window, his eyes hidden behind the dark shade of his sunglasses. His back was utterly straight and stiff, and his face was unreadable. To anyone else, he looked completely composed and confident. But Katara knew better. In reality, he was more nervous than she was.

The private car arrived at the airport far too quickly for Katara's taste. She would be okay with taking a spin around the Lower East Side during rush hour than start this game any faster than she had to.

"Okay." Zuko said finally, turning to face her. "Game on, Sage. You ready?"

Katara quickly hiked up her skirt to her upper thigh, checking to see her Nagant was secure in its holster. She didn't miss Zuko's almost proud smirk.

"Yep. Ready as I'll ever be."

"Right, then. Gird your loins, and please try to remember that we're in love." he said with a wink, sliding out of the long, black car. Katara couldn't contain the eye roll, even though he wasn't there to witness it.

"I will try to contain my enthusiasm."

-8-8-

The plane was a private plane - of course - at a private hanger - _of course_ - and Katara and Zuko got through security with little to no interruptions. Once again, she marveled at the miracle of being a Hiryo. Then, as she allowed Zuko to rest his hand possesively on the small of her back, earning her overly polite smiles, and an extra "ma'am" at the end of everything, she felt that for a second, she _was_ a Hiryo.

They had been walking for about ten minutes when they finally arrived at the proper hanger. She could tell by how no one sat at it besides three very well dressed men. Katara's steps began to slow. She felt Zuko rub small circles on her back with his thumb, and felt comforted by it. She could do this. She wasn't called the Blue-eyed Banshee for nothing in the assassin underground. This was her job. And she was damn good at it.

"Father," Zuko said, in a voice just loud enough to attract attention. One of the men in an expertly tailored Armani suit turned, and Katara was faced with the devious, handsome face of Ozai Hiryo.

There was no doubt that the man was shockingly handsome. The Hiryo blood line had a history of impeccably beautiful people. He had high, finely sculpted cheek bones, and a face symmetrically carved to be perfect. He had the same eyes as Zuko, yet his seemed more piercing, more persistent, not holding back anything yet revealing nothing. His goatee was long and perfectly trimmed, and his long black hair was in its usual low ponytail. Nothing about the man was out of place. Every hair was exact, and precise, leaving no room for vulnerability. From a distance, the guy didn't look half bad, maybe even pleasant. But the angry, harsh look that covered his face when he saw Zuko and Katara erased all of her sense of security. This man was evil. There was no mistaking that.

She quickly took in the two men he was standing with. Just like their files described, Zhao Moretti and Long Feng Smith. After memorizing their target files, Katara would recognize those pompous sideburns and sneaky rat face anywhere. They all dressed impeccably - which Katara thought was odd for a seven hour flight - but she didn't question it. They turned to face them as one, and their emotions read on their faces. Anger, curiosity, intrigue. Katara felt her heart catch, again. If it wasn't for Zuko, she was sure she would not be able to do this on her own.

But she wasn't about to tell him that.

"Zuko." Ozai said once they were close enough to speak with him. His confidently smooth voice spoke to Zuko, yet his eyes were on Katara. She was silently praying that he wouldn't recognize her, but she could see the recognition unfold behind his eyes.

"Don't tell me that this beautiful young lady is little Katara Atka from Lion Royal Academy?" he said, quirking an eyebrow.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Hiryo." Katara responded with a slight bow of her head. Apparently, Ozai didn't find it to be such a _pleasure_. His sharp eyes shifted between her and Zuko, obviously offput by her presence.

"Forgive me, but I must wonder what you are doing here, Ms. Atka."

Katara lowered her head, playing the shy little girlfriend, and let Zuko take the wheel for a moment.

"Well, father, I am sorry I didn't mention this ahead of time, but Katara and I have gotten back together."

Ozai opened his mouth, as if to laugh, but immediately closed it when he realized that no one else was laughing. Zuko took that as a cue to continue.

"I have communicated with her a bit for a few months over the internet, and when I ran into her in Chicago after my seminar...I couldn't let her walk back out of my life. All of those old feelings that come with, well, _Katara_, came back instantly. Being the charming gentleman Hiryo men are known for being, I asked her to be my escort on this trip to Paris. I hope to use this time we have to be together, away from home, will get us back to where we were before...everything."

Katara had to mentally applaud Zuko for his performance. He was almost as smooth a liar as Azula. Almost.

Ozai's eyes once again crossed between the two of them, and Katara could see something light behind them, some kind of plan formulating in his mind. But she couldn't catch it. That was a skill that she was never able to pick up on.

Finally, Ozai grinned, and extended his hand out for Katara's, which she instantly accepted.

"Of course, it would be an honor to have Ms. Atka accompany us to Paris. She will be a lovely addition to our party. I have yet to forget how you bewitched my son when he was in high school, I am eager to see how you plan to one up yourself this time."

Katata managed a light laugh, and allowed Ozai to softly kiss the knuckles of her hand. This charade of his was very convincing, but Katara knew better. There was no room for letting her guard down, for Ozai would always be watching.

Zhao Moretti then stepped up, that what she assumed to be permanent smirk covering a great expanse of his face. The rest of his hair - that was not involved in those incredibly distracting side burns - was situated on top of his head in a type of topknot. He stood a few inches taller than Katara, but about the same height as Zuko. The man was extremely muscular, with a steady, fighting stance. There was no question that he was a man geared and ready for any fight. He scanned her form slowly with a cheap type of appreciation, and Katara could practically hear Zuko's inner possessive monster growl beside her.

"Zuko, Zuko, Zuko," he said slowly, his voice just as obnoxious and overly confidant as the rest of him. "You never told me that you kept such stunning company." He also grasped Katara's hand, leaning down to kiss it, letting his lips linger a bit longer than necessary. She covered her gag by smiling.

"Zuko, you never told me that your father had such charming friends."

Zhao threw back his head in a loud, boisterous laugh that caused Katara to actually jump.

"Oh, I like this one, Zuzu." he said, surprising her by using Azula's nickname for Zuko. "You'd best keep her close. I might try to steal her away."

Zuko's arm slid easily around her waist, his hand resting against her hip, causing her emergency knife to press into her skin.

"Oh, trust me, Uncle Zhao. I don't plan on losing her again."

"Noble words." said a calm voice from behind Zhao. "I am sure the young lady will not be running off anytime soon."

Long Feng Smith was an absolute snake, and Katara could tell that by just looking at him. His small beard and matching moustache made him look like some funny villain out of a Saturday morning cartoon. He dressed simply in dark slacks and a grey turtle neck, his long braid hanging down to his waist. He grinned very politely, but Katara could see his masterful, brilliantly devious mind working behind bright green eyes.

"Ms. Atka. I had heard rumors of the mysterious siren, and I must say that your beauty far outshines them. I am honored to finally make your acquaintance." he said, bowing his head slightly. Katara quirked an eyebrow, and turned an eye towards Zuko.

"Mysterious siren?" she asked with a smirk. Zuko tried to hide his blush behind his long hair, but to no avail.

"Yes, Zuko was quite caught up when you were younger." continued Long Feng. "Perhaps this trip will relight that flame."

Without even meaning to, Katara slipped her hand into Zuko's, giving it a light squeeze. Which - after a moment - he returned.

"So, father, where is Azula? I never took her to be anything but painfully punctual." said Zuko, pulling Katara closer against his side.

"She was actually thirty minutes early." Ozai responded. "She went to buy some gum, or something menial like that with Mai and Ty Lee. She should return any - "

"Katara?"

Katara's blood instantly froze when she heard the unmistakable, even toned voice behind her. There was that ever present hint of amusement to her voice, but not surprise. Azula was never surprised.

Katara mentally exhaled before plastering on a see-through smile, and turning around to face her old nemesis.

Azula stood before her, straight-backed and glowing with an inherit confidence that only a Hiryo could manage. She was taller than Katara remembered, now almost matching her height. Her body was perfection - as always - made lean from years of running traversing the world, killing people. She wore a long-sleeved, cabled sweater dress that fit to her torso, and flared out at the waist, ending right above her knees, swaying with each movement. It was bright red, matching her lipstick. Her exposed platform, black suede boots were knee high, with a heel that made Katara's most ambitious club shoes look modest. And of course, her long Hiryo black hair was up in her signature bun, with two perfect side bangs framing her face. And she was smirking. Of course she was smirking.

"Azula." Katara finally said, trying her hardest to smile. "Wow, look at you, all grown up."

There was the slightest twitch at the corner of Azula's eye, giving Katara a bump of confidence. Annoying Azula was one of Katara's most beloved past times.

"Well, that is what happens when you vanish for years, Katara. Things change." Azula responded, maintaining her flawless composure. Then, her eyes shifted to Zuko, and her smirk widened. "Even though I see some things haven't changed."

Zuko glanced at Katara - only briefly - but that was long enough for Azula.

"Father," she said brightly, turning her attention over Katara's shoulder. "We can leave now."

Azula briskly walked past Katara, lightly brushing her shoulder. Only when the sharp clip of her boots had faded did Katara allow herself to exhale. The hardest part was over, in her opinion.

"Wow, Mai said you were pretty."

Katara jumped at the bright, bubbly voice, and turned expecting to see an equally bright and bubbly face, but instead was faced with a pair of ballet flat donned feet. Katara blinked once not really sure what she was seeing.

"Um..."

"Down here."

Katara allowed her head to travel down and found that the girl was in a hand stand. Large, expressive grey eyes stared up at her. So, this was the infamous Ty Lee Gray.

"Oh. Hi." Katara said, tentatively.

Quickly, and with impressive agility, Ty Lee bent near backwards, brining herself to stand fully erect before Katara. She wasn't aware that a girl could wear so many pastels. She wore a pink cashmere turtle neck and pink leggings under a light grey wool skirt that clung to her legs, ending above her knees. Her long braid bounced merrily, and her smile was near contagious. Katara for a moment doubted whether the Godfather got his sources right. This peppy little cheerleader hardly looked the legendary fighter. But, Katara knew perhaps more than anyone that looks could be deceiving. For all of Ty Lee's disarming merriness, Katara knew that she was the last one she should turn her back to.

"Mai was right when she said you were pretty." Ty Lee repeated. "I'd kill for your hair." she said, instantly, and without incentive reaching out and brushing Katara's chocolate colored hair. Katara actually blushed.

"Oh, well, thanks. I'd kill for your figure."

And she wasn't lying. Ty Lee was lithe and little with an impossibly narrow waist that Katara hadn't sported since 2008. Ty Lee flipped her bangs dismissively, even though her smile was bright.

"Please, it's just the acrobatics. I couldn't keep this up without it. Besides, if you're good enough for the oh-so-angsty Zuko over here, I'm sure you're alright." she commented with a wink. "Azula told us all about how you two were high school sweet hearts, but then you went of to college in Chicago, and Zuko didn't chase after you - which I think was a terrible move on his part. Now, after four years, I think it's _so adorable_ that you are getting back together. And in Paris! So romantic. Of course, we all thought that Paris was when Zuko would maybe propose to Mai -"

"Ty!"

Ty Lee's face suddenly blanched, and Katara realized that the friendly girl had perhaps said too much. Mai stood behind her stone faced, except for her eyes which were reflecting back a whole other level of shock and embarrassment. The girl had been so quiet up until that point, Katara had almost forgotten she was there. She was once again wearing a black, long sleeved dress, that was simple, yet screamed luxury. Her silky hair was worn in a type of odd bun, with two long sections handing at her shoulders. apparently the ensemble was a bit of a uniform for her.

"Ty Lee, maybe we should find our seats on the plane." Mai said evenly, keeping her eyes on Ty Lee. The girl nodded once then scurried past them on silent feet, giving Katara a weak smile. Mai said nothing at all, and simply glided by like a ghost. But Katara could see the pain in her eyes. She hated being the home wrecker on the trip, but it was all a game anyway. Therefore, no one was being betrayed. Right?

"Well, that was awkward." deadpanned Zuko. Katara only shook her head.

"This is crazy. This is absolutely crazy. What am I doing here, Zuko?"

"Despite what you think, you're doing well." he said, completely ignoring her question. "Ty Lee likes you." He said that like it was some type of victory.

"I have a feeling Ty Lee likes everyone." Zuko chuckled darkly, and began to lead Katara towards the hanger.

"You'd be surprised."

Katara only shook her head, allowing Zuko to lead the way. As long as she could stay as inconspicuous as possible, the easier this mission would be.

Suddenly, a set of lethally sharp, finely pointed nails dug into Katara's arm, causing her to jump.

"Sage." Azula whispered, her professionally sophisticated voice laced with a mocking type of spite, her head facing forward. Katara mentally inhaled, calming her nerves.

"Black Rose." Katara responded, playing along.

"I can't believe you and Zuzu would go on a mission without me. I feel unloved."

"Wonder why."

"So, who's the target. Someone I know?"

Katara hoped that Azula couldn't feel her pulse jump.

"Would you be so surprised to know that there is no mission? Can't Zuko and I just be together without having to kill someone?"

"No."

Katara suddenly stopped, dropping the espionage banter, and turned to face Azula fully.

"Look, I know that I caused a lot of damage when I left the Order. A lot had happened, and I was...confused. I needed to get as far away from the madness as possible. But, now that I've found Zuko again, I hope I can rebuild my other relationships, too. We were friends once, Azula."

Azula's laugh was sparkling, light and fanciful, yet cynical.

"Please, Katara. You and I were never friends." Her face suddenly hardened. "Don't think that I can be so easily fooled. Whatever you and the prodigal son have planned, I will figure it out."

Azula's eyes held promise, but Katara kept her nonchalant mask.

"Oh, 'Zula." Using her childhood nick name always got to her. "I wish you would let things go. Grudges don't look good on you."

Then, Katara turned on a heel, and followed Zuko down the hanger into the plane. She kept her back straight, but her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. Azula was like some type of shark. Once she caught the scent of blood, she would follow it until she made the kill. Katara would have to work every second not to bleed.

-888-

The plane moved smoothly through the clear sky, its large, plush leather chairs making the relatively long trip more bearable. Everyone had fallen asleep about an hour before, excusing a few - namely Zuko. He sat with his ankle crossed over his knee, reading _The Count of Monte Cristo_, if you'd believe it, allowing his shoulder to be used as a pillow for Katara. She was still a restless sleeper, and would mumble something under her breath every few minutes, but he didn't mind. Having her close to him in any and all forms was a step forward.

"You're not going to figure it out, so just stop torturing yourself." he said, keeping his head turned towards his books, feeling Azula's keen eyes glare into his back.

"Whatever could you mean, big brother? I'm just admiring how true love conquers all, and all that. One would never think that you were planning to propose to Mai just two days ago."

Zuko lowered his book, focusing his eyes instead towards the celestial landscape of clouds that looked like mountains and rivers, his stare almost regretful.

"I never intended to propose to Mai. That was just something Ty Lee got started in her head. Besides, we were never really dating. We're good friends, that's all."

"Zuko, I'm surprised. Katara must be really addicting for you to change your tune so quickly."

"You know you missed her just as much as I did."

Azula laughed, inspecting her nails, even though they were always perfect.

"Never as much as you, Zuzu."

Zuko suddenly turned from the window, and leaned forward, adjusting Katara's placement on his shoulder with his movement.

"Is it so terrible that I could actually love this girl? Why does that get to you so much? Is it because every guy who dates you has to sign a fifty page contact written in blood?"

"Haha, you're hilarious. It's because you 'loved' my best friend two days ago, Zuzu. It just makes me wonder about the quality of your love."

"Whatever, Azula. I want to use this trip to get Katara back, okay, so please try to be a little bit cordial? Please?"

The corner of Azula's bright red lips turned up un a perfect smirk, one passed down through the blood of the Hiryo family, yet she seemed to perfect.

"Oh, don't you worry, Zuko. I'll be on my _best_ behavior."

Azula gave Zuko one more blistering look, before reclining in her seat, and closing her eyes, feigning sleep. Zuko's eyes narrowed as he watched his little sister, the wheels constantly turning in her head. Carrying out a mission with her on board was hard enough, building one around her was virtually impossible, and Katara was already bursting at the seams. But behind those big blue eyes, and innocent smile, Zuko knew that Sage still lay dormant and waiting. His assassin would show her face when the time was right, and if he had to push and pull this new Katara until then, he would. He wasn't completely lying when he said he planned to use this trip to get her back. As he brushed a strand of her dark brown hair from her forehead, he knew that the Order would remain incomplete without her - and so would he.

-8-8-

Mai sat two rows behind Zuko and Azula, and silently watched their whispered exchange. She didn't blame Zuko for wanting Katara back. She was everything Mai was engineered not to be: expressive, light, compassionate, sported an annoyingly bright smile. Mai was raised to be like a statue - beautiful to look at, yet cold and hard to the touch. Zuko knew he needed more than that, as did she. Wanted more than that. And what man wouldn't? Yet, one thing he didn't know was that, if he asked, she would change for him. If he would just look at her the way he looked at Katara, she would change.

Maybe she too could use Paris to her own advantage.

* * *

**AN: There you go! Once again, not a lot of espionage going on in this chapter, but I thought it was a nice set up for the next few chapters. Please review, and thank you for reading!**


	9. Chapter 8

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "Avatar: The Last Airbender"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: In honor of Zutara Week, I finally put my ass in gear and wrote a new chapter. Thanks for waiting so patiently, I'm so sorry it took so long. Please read, and enjoy! Also, I realized I made a bit of a crucial typo in chapter 3 when Piandao said "In a week, Ozai and his posse will be leaving for Paris, France". What I meant to say that for a week, Ozai and his posse will be in Paris. I realize that could have caused a bit of confusion, so just clearing that up.

* * *

CANNED HEAT

Katara had been to Paris before, on a mission, but the target was located and eliminated within hours, so she was never able to come to Paris and truly _see_ Paris. Now, as their nondescript black limousine drove down the Parisian streets lined with finely trimmed tress, wide sidewalks, and beautiful people in beautiful clothes - she suddenly felt like a princess coming to the ball. Even the air smelled of art and romance and _bread_. She knew how absoluetly ridiculous that sounded in her mind, but she couldn't help it if her feelings were cliche.

"Katara, we've been to Paris before." Zuko said next to her on the plush leather seats.

"_You've_ been to Paris before," Katara clarified, still not turning to face him. "The way you're supposed visit Paris. I've been to Paris and didn't even stop to eat a crêpe. I never knew how magical this city is."

Katara turned to see Zuko smirking at her, a type of childish spark in his eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just, you're kind of adorable."

Katara laughed bitterly, turning back to face the window. A girl like her with the blood of hundreds on her hands was anything but , she couldn't help the butterflies in her stomach when she felt his eyes on her back.

"We haven't been to Paris sense last Christmas, haven't we Azula?" asked Ty Lee in that same bright pink bubble gum voice that Katara had come to assume was her usual tone of voice.

"Yes, Christmas in Paris is always so beautiful, right Katara? Oh wait, I forgot, you've never spent Christmas in Paris. Or, much of anywhere else, really."

Azula's full, sick smile only poured salt on the fresh wound she just dealt Katara.

Apparently, any type of ally was not to be found in her. Not that Katara was surprised. During her first days in the Squad, Azula had made a point of destroying her on every field to hold her title as the best shot on the team. Any knife in her back would certainly come from her.

Katara had to struggle so hard to smile in return that her jaw shook.

-8-8-

Within minutes, they were pulling into the large, wrap-around drive of a hotel which easily could have passed as a palace. The elegance on the exterior only flowed into the lobby. Marble floors, mile high ceilings and a crystal chandelier suspended over the whole of the space. She could see her reflection in the plated gold that lined the walls. Four years ago, such finery and elegance and wealth would have been nothing more than a part of the mission, but after so long, that world felt so far beyond her now.

She would have continued to stare with open-mouthed amazement if she hadn't felt Zuko squeeze her hand, grabbing her attention.

"You're beginning to show your colors, Sage." he whispered next to her ear, his breath warm on her neck. His voice was firm, but his expression was flirtatious. That sudden intrusion shocked her back into herself. She blinked, clearing the fairy dust from her eyes, and could see Azula's narrow gaze on her, a smirk curling up the side of her face. Zuko was right, if she continued to be so transparent, she would jeopardize the whole of the mission.

"Sorry," she whispered, plastering on a fake smile to cover the truth of their hushed conversation. "It's just...been a while. Forgive me for feeling the pauper here, _which I am_."

Zuko's grip tightened.

"Don't let that get to you. You've done this before, so many times, this is your stage."

Katara finally turned her head to see the gold in his eyes bearing down on her. There was his usual all-consuming confidence there, but not so much confidence in himself. More confidence in her. It was a stare she had seen before, but it still managed to break her open after all of this time.

Before she could respond with anything close to logical, Zuko was pulling her from the lobby towards a series of elevators that could have very well been lined with crystal.

"We're going on up." he called over his shoulder to his family just as the elevator doors silently closed.

Considering the old-world style elevator man who they shared the spacious, upholstered elevator with, they rode up twenty floors in silence. It was a tense, heavy silence that filled the elevator with emotional humidity. In New York, the whole of this mission still seemed far away, a part from her. Now, in Paris, feeling the cool metal of her Nagant against her leg through the leggings, it was suddenly very real.

There were few rooms on their floor: probably because of the high-clientele. Zuko lead her to a wide door with the numbers "2010" in plated gold over the top. The keys were even elegant, being actual iron keys that could have been handmade a century ago instead of the electronic cards she had become accustomed to. When he swung the door open ahead of her, she was certain she had walked into a dream.

It was like something taken directly from Versailles. The room was cream-colored, and larger than her entire apartment, she was sure, and leaked luxury. The natural light was the first thing that hit her because of the wall lined with Victorian style french doors that looked over the front courtyard. One side of the room was taken up by their very own living room with a lounge chaise, two plush chairs, and a coffee table that held a large gift basket, courtesy of the hotel. Gift basket meaning a Louis Vuitton carry-on bag stuffed with fine chocolate, fruit, Chanel and champagne. That would definetly be included in her compensation.

She spotted the door to the bathroom immediately, and could not stop herself from opening the double doors, and certainly couldn't stop the blissful sigh that came from deep inside of her when she saw the spa that they passed for a bathroom. The room itself was round, with a cloud mosaic on the ceiling, and a miniature version of the chandelier from the lobby suspended from the center. The curved walls were completely made up of mirrors, with one window, and a fireplace - _fireplace_. The tan marble was so clean and smooth that Katara could see her reflection in them. There was a full vanity for each of the two sinks, and then one large vanity with its own gold ornamented mirror, complete with a set of silver brushes, combs, and hand mirrors. On one of the far walls was a tiled shower with too many faucets and shower heads to manage, so big, Katara could throw a rave in it, but the true jewel of the bathroom was the porcelin claw-foot tub in the center of the room. It was deep enough to do laps in. Katara would have to be careful not to spend the whole of the mission in that tub.

There was an antique writing desk across from the windows, and on the end of the room opposite from the lounge area was what must have been the largest bed she'd ever seen. In all of her espionage years, she had never stayed in a room with a bed that could be its own borough. She literally squealed, and, embracing her immaturity, sprinted across the room and launched herself onto the bed. It was like being embraced by a cloud. A cool, cotton-candy soft, memory foam cloud. Her eyes instantly closed, and she could feel herself weightlessly floating off. She wanted to meet the person who made that mattress and thank them for putting so much comfort into one bed.

Wait.

_One bed_.

Katara bolted up, the wonder now gone, and could tell by the way Zuko smirked - his hip leaning against the wall, and his hands lazily hanging in the pockets of his jeans - that he knew exactly what had broken her disallusion.

"Are we..._both_ sharing this room?" Katara asked, actually fearful of the answer. Zuko shrugged indifferently, but his eyes were alight with childish mischief.

"Well, we did make these reservations six months ago, when it was just me in here. It was too late to change, I'm afraid. Why?" Zuko pushed off of the wall and began to slowly stride towards the bed. Katara was suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable, like a deer in a hunter's crosshairs.

"Don't tell me you're nervous about being alone with me for so long, Katara." The deep tone in his voice was one Katara had heard one too many times before, and was dismayed to find that it still had the same effect on her. She instantly sat straight, her back against the mahogany head-board, hardening her face from showing any revealing emotions.

"Hardly." she answered, smoothing out her hair. "I was just thinking about the terrible knot you'll have in your back after you spend a week sleeping on the chaise. So, when do we hear from the God-"

Zuko quickly held up his hand, stopping her question mid-sentence. Katara's nerves suddenly turned to anger. He did _not_ just give her the hand. Katara began to ask what the hell he thought he was doing, but when she opened her mouth to rain her wrath down on him, he held his finger to his mouth and screamed silence through his eyes. Katara was confused, but she kept her mouth closed.

Zuko then began to walk the perimeter of the room, feeling along the wall with the tip of his fingers. His face was drawn with concentration as he walked. He felt along the edge of a framed painting, and then stopped. He lifted the frame, and from behind it pulled a small, black device the size of an eraser head, that Katara promptly recognized as a bug.

She caught on quickly, and began to search under and around the massive bed, and the bedside tables while Zuko worked the perimeter of the room. After five minutes, they had located six other bugs: one under the coffee table, in the hotel phone, in the lamp shade by the bed, under the bed, and two in the bathroom. Katara shouldn't have been surprised, but considering how long it had been since she'd seen a bug, holding one in her hand and knowing that someone was hanging on her every hushed word again sent a chill through her.

"I don't assume this hotel has a policy of bugging its customers' rooms."

Zuko sighed, throwing the bug up and catching it again in his hand, as harmless as a penny now that it was deactivated.

"Not usually, no. But I don't need to guess that these were planted by my father."

Katara's eyes widened as she stared at Zuko's downcast face.

"Ozai bugs your rooms? Is the man really that paranoid?"

"Yeah, he is. And considering that we were brought here specifically to kill him, it's a founded paranoia. We can't destroy them because he'll realize something's up, so we'll have to watch what we say. When we do have to talk about the mission, we'll deactivate them."

Katara sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs at the ankle.

"But, won't he still be suspicious if there are periods of deactivation on the tape?"

Zuko shook his head and ran his hand through his thickening hair.

"Not as suspicious as he would be if we cut them off all together. He knew that I would know he had them planted, that's not our problem. The problem would be if he knew that we know _and_ knew that we destroyed them. He assumes that there are things I would...um...rather keep private."

The way Zuko's eyes scanned her form made Katara blush, but they did not speak of the implications. There was a knock at the door, and, very lamely, Katara hid the bugs in her hand under one of the many plush pillows, and tried to act as unsuspecting as possible. Fortunately, it was just a hotel employee bringing up two luggage carts full of their luggage. Zuko gave him a pleasant tip of 100 euros, and sent him quickly out.

They both immediately went for the large, vintage traveling trunk that took up most of the space on the luggage carts. It was sealed with a numerical lock that only they shared, and a finger print scan. Even then, there were precautions. When first opened and searched superficially, it appeared to hold only coats and jackets. But, underneath the first panel, they had all of the Mechanist's gadgets and devices, some Katara had never seen before and couldn't wait to use. Under the second panel, it was revealed the whole of their arms collections.

Automatic weapons, semiautomatics, sniper rifles, machine guns, shotguns, a few pistols, throwing knives, ample supply of magazines and bullets, and Katara's _katana_. The guns were all broken down to make for less space, and not be as easily detectable by a scanner. Not that they could be, anyway. The Mechanist lined all of their luggage with an invention that projected false images onto a 3D scanner, making for easy travel. Perhaps it wasn't the most legal move to make, but it certainly cut down on time.

"Looks like everything's here." Zuko said, sitting back on his heels. "You good?"

Katara half-way unsheathed her _katana_, and the sun hit the metal, causing it to shine.

"Yeah, I'm good."

" 'Kay. Piandao said to contact him as soon as we were clear."

Zuko dug his Lotus.30 out of his carry-on, leaning back against the legs of one of the lounge chairs. Katara sat in the chair above him, looking over his shoulder. He pressed a button on the side of the device, and a list of names lit up the screen, he pressed the top one, which read, "The Godfather".

Instantly, Piandao's face appeared on the screen, although he seemed otherwise occupied.

"Teo, are you sure this thing is on? Well, how do I know if it is on or not? Yes, yes, I see the green light, does that mean it's? Streaming? Teo speak English to me, I don't know what that means!"

"Godfather."

Piandao's face turned to look into the camera fully, and both Katara and Zuko smiled from the other end. Piadao coughed deeply, and straightened his back.

"Yes, well, hello Blackthorn, Sage. How has it been going?"

"Seamless." Katara answered.

"Is your location secure?"

Zuko answered, "We've removed all the bugs, and we're two of five other guests on this floor. We should be good for now."

"Very good. We will connect you with the rest of the Squad, for this information is for all of you. If I could just...figure out..." There was the sound of buttons being pushed and for a moment Piandao's image was upside down. Finally, he seemed to give up and summoned Teo. Within seconds, Piando's image shared the screen with three others. In one, they could clearly see the faces of Aang and Toph, Jet and Suki sharing another, and Sokka in one by himself.

"Now that we are all here -"

"Wow, nice room!" Sokka said, leaning forward, towards the camera, moving his head as if he could see around Zuko and Katara. "Hey, swipe a robe for me, Sage."

Katara took the Lotus.30 from Zuko, and held it close to her face, speaking directly to Sokka.

"Sokka, what are you doing here, you're not part of this mission!"

"I'm just here to make sure how things are going okay." Her brother said, still trying to look around her. "Zuko hasn't tried anything, has he? If he has, I'll -!"

"He'll what, bore me to death with science?" Zuko said, smirking to himself. Sokka leaned so close to the camera that his eye took up a majority of the screen.

"Is that him? Where is he?"

"Master Sokka, please get off of this channel!" Piandao shouted. Sokka held up his hands, sitting back.

"Okay, okay, I'm leaving. Good luck, everyone, and be careful!" Then, her brother's image vanished.

"As I was saying," Piandao crossed his arms behind his back. "Now that we are all here, the whole of the mission can be revealed to you. Hawthorne, Nightshades, Tiger Lily, Snapdragon, you arrived with little disturbance, correct?"

"Snapdragon forgot to empty his pockets before going through the metal detector, so he had to get a pat down that held us up for ten minutes, but otherwise, yeah little disturbance." said Nightshades, her feet propped up to the side of the camera.

Jet shrugged and propped his arms behind his head as he leaned back.

"Hey, I think that one TSA agent had a thing for me."

Suki nudged him in the ribs sharply, causing him to double over in pain.

"I know this is hard for you to imagine, but not_ every_ female you encounter is attracted to you."

"How's it going in the lion's pit, Sage?" Hawthorne asked, leaning closer to the camera. Katara pulled at a section of her hair - a nervous habit - and averted her eyes from the screen.

"I'm still alive, if that means anything. My soul may have been devoured by Azula's eyes, however, and you won't believe what her friends are -"

"Okay, who took my gum?!"

"Nobody took your gum, Nightshades."

"It was in my pocket when I got off the plane. Snapdragon if that's my gum I hear you chewing I'm gonna slap that smirk off your face!"

"Could we just get briefed, please!"

Zuko's yell could have been heard at Normandy. It was enough to halt all conversation in an instant. Katara almost laughed at the irony of it all. Four years without her, and the Squad still operated the same way. Piandao took that as the opportune time to regain order.

"Yes, Blackthorn is right, we do not have much time. At the previous briefing, you were told that this is gathering in Paris an annual meeting of the major criminal masterminds that serve under Ozai. There are others besides his immediate posse who will need to be eliminated before Ozai can be taken out."

The whole screen was suddenly taken up by a new image. It was of a man - or at least she thought it was a man - with a face completely covered in white paint. His lips were red, and there were grey circles around his eyes. All of the hair was shaved from his head, including the eyebrows, which were drawn on. His smile was wide, but cold and menacing. Those dark eyes bore into her very center, it seemed.

They could no longer see Piandao, or the other members of the Squad, but they could hear his voice when he said, "This man is called Koh, the Face Stealer. He is the leading drug lord in France, based here in Paris. No one truly knows what he looks like because the mask is tattooed onto his face. He is called the Face Stealer because those who cross him literally and figuratively dissapear. Once people become dealers under him, they vanish from society and are never heard from again. All of his bodyguards wear back masks, hiding their identities. He will be particularly difficult to eliminate because of his established presence here in Paris. He will have to be taken out first, for if he senses any hint of a plot in this city, he will be spirited off to Mont Saint-Michel, and out of our reach."

The next reminded Katara more of a boy band than feared killers. It was a group picture of five men. They were each different in appearance, but dressed similarly. One had many piercings, and a braided beard and mustache. Another had a thick brunette beard that made him look like a lumberjack. Another was extremely tan with bulging muscles he that exposed by wearing nothing but a leather vest. Another was relatively young with mysterious, ornate red tattoos surrounding his eyes, and one's face could not be described at all because he wore a red mask with only slanted slats as windows to the outside.

"So, Ozai is employing the Village People to do his dirty work?" Katara could not see, but she could certainly hear the smirk in Jet's tone.

"Close, but not quite." said Piandao. "These are all major mafia bosses out of Sicily. Though extremely dangerous on their own, together they are called the Rough Rhinos: Mongke Risso, Kahchi Costa, Ogodel Mancini, Vachir Moretti, and Yeh-Lu Bianchi. They were once only a minor street gang - Vachir actually being a cousin of Zhao Moretti - but with Ozai's sponsorship and Zhao tutelage, they have risen to have influence across the whole of Italy. Eliminating them will not only lessen Ozai's ranks, but also free Italy of these destructive underworld lords."

The next image was of a stoic man with hard, intimidating eyes, who seemed mysterious, but normal, apart from a tattoo of a Third Eye in the center of his forehead.

"This man essentially has no name. If he does, no one has ever heard it, for he does not speak. He is only known as Bezymyannyy - Nameless. He is a lone assassin who has plagued Russia, and the whole of Eastern Europe for years. He charges a minumum of $500,00 US dollars per hit, with the highest amount ever paid being $5,000,000 dollars for the death of the 10 year old daughter of a powerful Russian mafia boss. He fights like an assassin, and he operates like an assassin, making him hard to pin down. Also, because of a childhood accident, his right arm and leg are bionic and virtually industructable. Eliminating him will prove to be a great challenge for you, Sage and Blackthorn."

Zuko turned to look over his shoulder up at Katara. She read the language in his eyes and nodded. He turned back to the Lotus.30.

"We've handled worse."

This next image was of an older woman with a sharp and intimidating face, her mouth pinched into a sour point and her hair up in a complicated bun. The woman was rather frightening, and Katara felt that she might have had her as a calculus professor freshman year.

"This woman is Kwan Stein, out of Germany, known as _Lehrerin _or_ The Teacher_. On the surface, she is the Madam of a refined brothel in Berlin called _Der Rote Schal_ that catered to some of the most powerful men in the Third Reich, but for the last thirty years, she has been operating a drug ring that consumes Poland, Austria, the Netherlands and even some of the UK. She is flanked by a skilled team of very capable, all-female bodyguards who she calls her Schulerin - students. To get to her, you must get through them."

The last image was of an older man with a stern, hard face drawn down into a frown. His hair was black and long, hanging down his back loosely. He did not seem to be a man who took part in the finer things in life, and had seen things that shouldn't. Though, Katara felt that she had seen his black eyes before.

"And, this is Kazuo Miyazaki. He is Mai Miyazaki's uncle, and her father's second in command. He was sent here to represent his brother. He does not travel with as heavy a regiment as the others, but he is a capable fighter, so do not understimate him."

The screen was once again split into three sections, Piandao's face being the larger one.

"Including Ozai and his cohorts, these are your targets. Your deadline to complete the mission is five days from today, on Friday. I will be in contact with any developments, Teo will be monitoring and giving you the target's locations, along with any technical aid. Understood?"

The Squad echoed, "Yes, Godfather."

"Very good. Good luck, chaps. Godfather out." Then, his image was gone, and the Squad was alone.

"We'll be around when you need us." said Suki from her shared screen with Jet. "Keep in touch."

"Have fun kids, and don't do anything I would do, even though I know you will. Ow! God, Tiger Lily you're so violent! This is why I never partner with you - " Then, their image too was gone.

"For once, I agree with his royal imbecile, Snapdragon." said Nightshades, her head slightly turned towards the camera. "Try to have some fun while you're here, Sugar Queen. You're in need of a good time, and if anyone can give a perpetual stick in the mud who wouldn't know a good time if it climbed down her chimney saying '_ho,ho,ho_' a good time, it's Scarface."

Katara could never really tell what was an endearment or an insult with Toph, so she could only say, "Thanks, Nightshades...I guess."

Hawthorne leaned forward, and Katara felt that the wisdom in his grey eyes was speaking directly to her.

"We're here for you. Good luck, Sage."

Then the whole screen was once again nothing but a rotating Pai Sho tile.

Katara finally allowed herself to sink back into the chair, blowing tendrils of hair up over her forehead.

"Twelve targets in five days." she said, exhaustion covering her just thinking about it.

"Not to mention all the bodyguards." Zuko added, his voice just as heavy.

She could see that he too was beginning to feel the weight of this mission. It was the biggest hit they had ever taken on in their career as partners. And it carried the most weight. If they succeded, they would free over a third of the world from some of the most infamous and dangerous crime lords in the world. If not, the world's underworld would be at their throats.

For a moment, they sat in silence, the noises and smells from the streets wafting up into their room, the sun's light casting rays onto the beige floor. She supposed this was some kind of calm before the storm.

"Do you think we can do this?" she finally asked.

After a minute of silence, Zuko answered, "We have to."

Suddenly, Zuko bounded to his feet. He grabbed his coat, which had been languidly tossed over the back of one of the chairs.

"Most of these guys will be with us all week, and'll be able to ID us. So, before we do anything, we need proper disguises."

Zuko also grabbed Katara's pea coat and tossed it into her lap.

"We're going shopping in Paris."

* * *

**AN: Okay, guys, there it is! Not the longest or most well-written chapter, maybe, but it does introduce a lot of new information. And just to clarify, Kwan Stein is modeled after Aang's teacher from "The Head Band" whose name is apparently Kwan - who knew. I am so sorry, again, for taking SO LONG to update. The next chapter may still take a while to get up because of life and what not, but I will try my hardest not to let so many months pass between updates. Thanks so much to readers who've been with this story since chapter 1 for being so patient, and welcome to new readers, and I hope you stick around! Also, the title song for this chapter is "Canned Heat" by Jamiroquai. **

**Next chapter will feature a good-ole costume montage, awkward dinners, and a shoot out at the Louvre. R&R, please! **


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